


The One Who Weaves Together Fate

by indecisive_penguin



Category: Bleach
Genre: Aizen Sousuke Has Different Motives, Aizen Sousuke Is Still A Terrible Person, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Humor, Background Relationships, But He's A Multi-Dimensional Terrible Person, Canon Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, F/M, Gen, Humor and Heartbreak, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Minor Character Death, Ninth Visored, Please Send Help, Sorry Not Sorry, a fix-it if you squint, good luck godspeed and all that nonsense, grant me the strength to finish this fic, hisagi shuuhei is so done with everyone's bullshit, honestly who knows what i'm doing at this point, out of character characters ahoy, please stop the ride sir I would like to get off, there's a happy ending i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-04-14 01:35:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 50,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14125269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indecisive_penguin/pseuds/indecisive_penguin
Summary: Children should never be involved in the Wars of adults. Inevitably, such things leave a bitter taste on the tongue, resentment in the heart, and broken loyalties scattered to the winds like fallen leaves in Autumn. You cannot steal someone for the purposes of another and not expect consequences.Excerpt:"He's too old for you!" Shinji yells from the floor."I am eighty-two years old, Shinji!""And Kensei's only, like, two-hundred-and-forty." Mashiro supplies unhelpfully around a mouthful of food.





	1. Before the Fall/After the Rise 1

* * *

…Before…

* * *

It’s a morning like any other as Kensei trudges towards his office, yawning hugely. He’d been up late editing the latest issue of Seireitei Communication, cursing inept writers as he’d slowly gone through two whole bottles of red ink. You’d think that they would eventually learn how to use proper punctuation, but it appeared his not-so-subtle hints just weren’t getting through.

Perhaps he needed a more direct method?

The door to the office rattled as he slid it open, making the person inside look up from their paperwork.

“Good morning, Taicho.” Kensei blinks, not terribly surprised to see his seventh seat already up and working at the desk next to his. Technically, it belongs to Mashiro, but seeing as she never does any paperwork, no matter how much he threatens to take away her snack allowance, someone else had to step up to fill the role.

Hagasu Sakura is a quiet, slim woman with soft brown eyes and close cropped, light brown hair. The only thing that detracts from her wholly ordinary appearance is the tail end of black ink peeking out from under her left sleeve. While she might not look like much, Kensei knows from personal experience that the unassuming exterior and loose fitting uniform hides a brilliant tactical mind and a compact, wiry physique. In layman’s terms, she’s smarter and faster than him, which makes their sparring sessions interesting, if nothing else.

“Morning.” He makes his way to his desk, falling heavily into his chair with a groan. He grabs the topmost folder from the stack closest to him and flips it open, groping blindly for a pen while he starts to read. As he gets lost in the report he distantly hears Sakura hum thoughtfully, the rustle of paper as she shuffles a stack together, and the rasp of fabric as she stands.

A few minutes later and a steaming mug of tea appears at his elbow, along with a thick envelope.

“Thanks,” He says absently, picking up the mug and taking a deep sip. He feels a slow wave of calm wash over him as the warm liquid floods his insides, the hint of orange and spices making him let out a tiny sigh as he relaxes.

When he returns his attention back to his seventh seat and the envelope, she’s already turned away to go back to her desk, but not before she nods to the letter.

“It arrived for you this morning, from the 5th.” She explains, a mild smile in place as Kensei grumbles into his tea. He sets aside the folder he was reading and snatches up the envelope with a huff.

“If this is about that stupid Jazz festival he’s been trying to organize, then Shinji can count me out.” He snarls, ripping open the missive with more vehemence than absolutely necessary. Sakura lets out a soft chuff of air that might be a laugh, returning to her desk and seating herself behind the veritable mountain of paperwork stacked atop it.

“If you’d like, Taicho, I can pen a quick message back. Politely declining the invitation, of course.” She says, a soft smile curling the edges of her lips. Kensei snorts, finishing his quick skim of the letter before he crumples it up and tosses it into the waste basket.

“Yeah, just tell him I’m working. I have no idea how he gets so much free time to do useless things. Do you know where last month’s reports from the 4th are?” He asks, changing the subject. Sakura shuffles through a stack of files, producing three thick folders which she brings over to his desk.

“They’re arranged by severity. The first folder is critical cases, the second is minor cases, and the third is ongoing cases, primarily Ukitake-taicho’s updated file. I’ve already sorted them, they just need your signature before they can be sent to the Archive.” She says, placing all three files on his desk. He blinks, flipping the top folder open to briefly skim her work. As usual, he finds no errors in her neat, compact handwriting.

“Good work.” He grunts.

“Thank you, Taicho.” She dimples at him before returning to her desk, where she pulls out a piece of heavy stationary, stamped with the 9th’s crest. It only takes her a few minutes to pen a quick note graciously refusing Shinji’s invitation, which he approves after a quick scan, scrawling his signature on the bottom before handing it back to her so she can stuff it into a new envelope. This goes in his ‘out’ box, ready to be picked up by a courier and delivered.

Another hour passes where they work together in silence, the quiet only broken by the shuffle of paper and the rustle of fabric. The sound of feet outside announces the arrival of the other members of the 9th division. The door rattles again as it’s slid open, admitting four men.

“Good morning, Taicho.” They chorus in unison. Kensei grunts, barely acknowledging them as he continues to work. Sakura, however, looks up as they enter the office.

“Ah, good morning. Todo-san, I have yet to receive your report from the mission three days ago.” She says mildly.

“I’m working on it.” The man in questions shrugs, flopping down onto one of the office’s two couches, his three companions following suit. Sakura’s lips thin, a flash of annoyance flickering through her usually warm brown eyes.

“Need I remind you that I have to file those reports with the 6th by the end of tomorrow? You know how Kuchiki-taicho gets about paperwork being turned in on time.” She says. The scratch of pen against paper ceases as Kensei pauses, before he lifts his head from the file he’s pouring over.

“She’s right. Todo, finish that report and have it turned in before lunch.”

“Eh? But Taicho!” Todo whines.

“Shut up! I don’t want that wrinkly old man complaining at me!” Kensei snaps.

“Why aren’t the others getting chewed out?” Todo grumbles, for all the world sounding like a petulant child. Sakura points to each of the other three men with her pen.

“Because Kasaki-san, Eishima-san, and Tousen-san all turned in their reports immediately after the mission.” She points out. Todo continues to frown at her, and has just opened his mouth to retort when the door slams open with an almighty bang.

“GOOD MORNING!” Kensei groans and drops his forehead to his desk as Mashiro bursts into the room, a whirlwind of boisterous energy.

“Sakura-chan, Sakura-chan, come have breakfast with meeee!” Mashiro coos, completely ignoring the men in the office as she skips to Sakura’s desk, throwing herself across the top like an oversized cat. Sakura, who had snatched a stack of documents from the polished wood a second before her lieutenant flopped across the surface, sighs.

“I’m sorry, Mashiro-chan, but I’m trying to get all this done before lunch.” She replies with an apologetic smile.

“Eh? Why? Is stupid Kensei making you work too hard?” The green haired girl cries loudly. There’s an angrily pulsing vein in Kensei’s forehead, one that grows larger with each word out of Mashiro’s mouth. Sakura chooses to ignore her Captain’s rising temper and instead lightly pokes the lieutenant’s side to get her to slide off the desk.

“I was going to go see Hiyori-chan, actually. Hikifune-taicho left yesterday, so she probably could use some cheering up.” She says. At this, Mashiro falls silent, frowning.

“Ah, that’s a good idea, Sakura-chan. I wanna go too!” She chirps, face brightening into a smile.

“Don’t you have work to do?” Kensei snaps.

“Don’t tell me what to do, stupid Kensei!” Mashiro pulls a face at the silver haired man, sticking out her tongue at him.

“Shut up! If you’re not going to work then get out!” He yells.

“Fine!” Mashiro turns sharply on her heel and flounces from the office, huffing about stupid captain’s under her breath.

There’s a beat of silence before the fourth seat, Eishima, huffs a sigh.

“That was…anticlimactic, for her, wasn’t it?” He muses, staring after the 9th’s lieutenant. Sakura lets out her own sigh, placing the stack of reports she had ‘saved’ from Mashiro back on her desk.

“I wouldn’t say that. As we speak she’s probably off collecting a bunch of people to go with her to visit Hiyori-chan.” She says. She taps a stack of papers together against her desk so that they line up, then lifts her head to glance at her captain.

“Ah, that reminds me. Taicho, can I have the afternoon off?” She asks Kensei.

“Sure.” He says immediately, not looking up from his work.

“You said that too quickly, Taicho! Why don’t we get days off like that?” Todo exclaims.

“Shut up! At least Hagasu finishes all of her work!”

“But Taicho…”

“You stay out of this, Eishima!”

“You do kind of favor Hagasu-san, Taicho.”

“Not you too, Kasaki!”

“We only speak the truth, Taicho.”

“ _Be quiet, Tousen!_ ”

As the five men fall deeper into their argument, Sakura watches them with an amused smile tugging at the edges of her mouth.

Now if only she could get them to put that much energy into their paperwork.

* * *

 …After…

* * *

There’s weak sunlight filtering in through some of the higher windows, the glass cracked and yellow with age. The rest of the warehouse is dark and quiet, the early morning hour slowly giving way as the sun creeps higher into the sky, the shafts of light falling across the broken concrete floor lengthening as the hour draws later and later.

In a secluded corner, tucked away in the shadows, Kensei grumbles something in his sleep, curling tighter around the body held in his arms, her even breathing signaling that she’s still deeply asleep.

It doesn’t last long.

“WAKE UP, STUPID KENSEI, SAKURA-CHAN!” The shout makes both former shinigami start awake, bolting upright as they simultaneously reach for their zanpakuto, blades at the ready as they search for a hidden enemy.

But there’s only Mashiro, grinning playfully at them from the catwalk.

“Rose and Lisa made breakfast.” The green haired girl supplies cheerfully.

“GET OUT!” Kensei shouts, reaching for something to throw at his former lieutenant. Mashiro sticks her tongue out at him as she easily dodges the rock he hurls at her.

“Stupid, you don’t have a room, so I can’t get out. Also, get a room, you two, so gross.” She laughs hysterically as she jumps down to the floor below, disappearing into the gaping hole in the floor.

Sakura lets out a sigh, flopping back onto the mattress with a groan.

“Five more minutes.” She mumbles, snuggling back into her pillow and groping blindly for the blanket. Kensei huffs a breath, reaching out to tug on her shoulder.

“No, come on. If we don’t go soon, those animal will eat everything.” He says. She whines plaintively, but rolls back over and gets up, rubbing sleepily at her eyes and yawning hugely.

Gone are the shinigami uniforms, replaced by cargo pants and an a-shirt for him, capris and a t-shirt for her. The oversized flannel shirt that usually stays tied at her waste is instead put on properly to ward off the early morning chill. She stuffs her feet into her ballet flats while he tugs on his combat boots, not bothering to lace them properly before they make their way down to the kitchen.

In the doorway she pauses, drawing Kensei up short behind her. She squints at Shinji, who is standing by the table.

“What are you _wearing_?” She asks. The blonde does a little twirl.

“Do you like it?” He asks, grinning.

“No.” She says without hesitation. Kensei snickers as he makes his way around her to get to the stove. Shinji clutches his chest in mock affront.

“Sakura-chan, how could you?” He falls dramatically into a chair, tipping his head back and laying the back of one hand delicately over his eyes. The other six people at the table ignore him, continuing to eat.

Sakura eyes the pressed pants and the short sleeved button up critically, before her eyes land on the tie around Shinji’s neck.

“You look like an idiot.” She says, stepping towards the table.

“Guh, Sakura-chan!” Shinji whines pitifully. She ignores him in favor of taking one of the two empty chairs. Kensei comes over with two plates, one of which he hands to her. She takes it with a soft 'thank you,’ settling between him and Hachi as she continues to watch Shinji with a critical eye.

“So, he looks like he normally does.” Hiyori snickers.

“Not you too, Hiyori!” Shinji cries.

“Just like normal.” Says Rose around his teacup.

“Nothing out of the ordinary.” Lisa deadpans from behind her manga.

“I didn’t notice a difference.” Says Mashiro innocently.

By this point Shinji has slumped in his seat, defeated.

“You’re all so cruel.” He complains.

Sakura continues to watch him, belatedly noticing the school crest stitched onto the pocket of his shirt.

“So, today’s the day, huh?” She murmurs, dropping her eyes to her food. The table has fallen silent, and she knows they’re all watching her.

“Sakura-chan…” Shinji starts, but she shakes her head, picking up her fork and starting to eat.

“I know. I just…I still don’t like it.” She says. She doesn’t look at any of them as she finishes her food in record time, getting up to put her dishes in the sink. Shinji sighs, stuffing a piece of toast in his mouth and standing from the table as well.

“Well, I’m off to school.” He says, heading for the door. As he passes her Sakura jabs him hard in the ribs with a finger.

“I hope you fail.” She says, deadpan, smirking as he squawks indignantly.

Once he’s gone, however, the smirk falls from her face.

“Sakura-chan…” Mashiro is watching her with sad eyes. She shakes her head and turns away, headed for the trapdoor to the underground training field.

“I’m going to meditate. Call me when it’s time for lunch.” She says, waving a hand over her shoulder as she walks away.


	2. Before the Fall/After the Rise 2

* * *

…Before…

* * *

She sucks in a shaky breath, fresh tears staining her face as she crouches against a wall. The eight bodies that litter the floor of the 12th company barracks are silent and motionless, sometimes eerily so. Periodically, she’ll stand and walk among them, watching for the steady rise and fall of eight different chests, assuring herself that they’re still alive.

But can it really be called living?

She sighs, sinking down to her knees beside Kensei, the inky darkness of the seal holding him down stark against the broken remnants of pale tan stone underneath them.

A rustle makes her turn.

Urahara is slumped over, head bowed over the little sphere in it’s clear box, held loosely in his hands, eyes screwed closed and a look of anguished concentration on his face. She glances at Tessai, equally still as he maintains his position, hands clasped in front of him.

She turns back to look down at her captain, her lieutenant, and her friends.

How did everything turn out like this?

Hours pass during which she moves around the area, sitting by each of the trapped and unconscious bodies, sometimes for an hour or more, sometimes for only a few minutes. She’s restless, the itch of something unpleasant burning just under her skin.

It’s as sunlight is just starting to fall through the eastern windows that Urahara stirs.

He blinks blearily, slowly starting to sit up. But then he stiffens, seeming to remember the events of the night before, and jerks upright, head flying up as his eyes search frantically all around him. She can see the despair settle on his shoulders when he takes in the still intact masks, the bodies still bound and motionless on the ground.

“It…it didn’t work.” He breathes, and the anguish in his voice makes her look away. She’d already known, somewhere deep down, that Urahara’s efforts were futile, but hearing him _say it_ was so much worse.

“What will we do now?” She asks, not really expecting an answer. Both men are silent for a time, before Urahara sighs.

“I’m going to get some fresh air.” He says, sounding incredibly tired.

When he gets to the door, however, the sound of weapons being drawn makes Sakura tense. Tessai, still seated against the far wall, does too, before turning to her.

“Hide.” He commands her.

“But…”

“Now!” He hisses. She stands on shaking legs, glancing around at the bodies laid out like so many pieces of damning evidence, and goes looking for somewhere where she won’t be found by the guard.

It’s only a few hours later, when Yoruichi finds her folded into a tiny cabinet in Urahara’s lab, does she come to understand the severity of the situation. That Urahara and Tessai have been arrested on suspicion of hollowfication experimentation and that the eight captains and lieutenants currently sprawled across the 12th’s floor are to be exterminated.

She feels sick, something like bile and disgust bubbling up at the back of her throat. The ease at which Central had dismissed them makes her blink back fresh tears and a slow burning, deep seated anger. They are people, good people, people she cares about, but the 46 had decided, without much thought, to discard them like so much trash.

She feels sick.

Yoruichi leaves her with the eight still unconscious shinigami in the hidden underground training field, telling her only that she’ll be back soon, before disappearing. Dejected, Sakura slides down to sit against a boulder and waits.

She doesn’t know if it’s ten minutes or ten hours later that she hears movement at the entrance to the cave, and looks up to see Yoruichi leading Urahara and Tessai towards her.

She watches them talk back and forth, not really listening and not bothering to get up from her spot until Urahara turns to regard her.

“What will you do?” He asks her. She scrubs a hand down her face, wiping at her dry eyes, feeling her fingertips catch on the inflamed skin.

“That depends on what you’re planning.” She tells him truthfully. He frowns.

“I’m going to create reiatsu blocking gigai for us to use, so we can escape to the living world. That will give me some time to figure out a way to reverse the hollowfication.” He explains. She blinks slowly, thinking over her options, before coming to a decision.

“You’d better make one more, then. I’m going with them.” She says, nodding to the pile of bodies on Urahara’s other side. He stiffens, eyes widening.

“But, from what you told me…” He starts.

“I know what I told you, but I need you to listen to what I’m saying now. This takes priority.” She says, cutting him off. Urahara frowns at her.

“I don’t think your superiors are going to see it that way.” He points out. She shrugs.

“Tough luck. They’ll deal with it. It’s not like I can’t do my job from the living world.” She says. Urahara’s frown deepens.

“How are you going to fit in with them? You didn’t get hollowfied and I have no intention of using the Hogyoku on you, not like Aizen did.” He points out, gesturing to the pile of unconscious captains and lieutenants. Her eyes slant a little as she looks down at her hands.

“You let me worry about that. By the time you’re done with your gigai, I’ll be done with my solution. All you’ll need to do is back up my story when the time comes.” She says.

Urahara stares down at her, wondering how it was possible for such a young kid to have such old eyes.

“Fine.”

* * *

...After...

* * *

Urahara watches Isshin walk away with Kon, a small smile hidden behind his fan. As soon as they’ve disappeared around the corner, he lifts his head and hums.

“Are you going to come out now, Sakura-chan?” He asks the seemingly empty space around him. There’s a moment where nothing happens, but he’s not the least bit surprised when he feels the air shift at his back and turns to find the ex-shinigami standing right behind him. She’s staring after Isshin, a thoughtful expression on her face.

“So, Kurosaki’s father was a shinigami, and a captain at that.” She muses, before her eyes flick to Urahara.

“And I assume you never said anything because it just never came up, right?” Her sarcasm makes him wince, and he laughs nervously.

“Ah, Sakura-chan, about that…” She cuts him off with a shake of her head.

“It’s not important.” She says. Urahara falls silent, regarding her carefully.

“So Shinji-kun made contact with Kurosaki-kun, eh?” He muses. She grunts noncommittally in response.

“How did it go?” He prods.

“About as well as you’d expect. We did send _Shinji_ , after all.” She replies. Urahara sighs in resignation, opening and closing his fan twice before he glances at her out of the corner of his eye. Her face is set in a frown, eyes distant. He hums again.

“You still don’t like it, do you?” It’s not really a question, because her answer is written clearly across her face. She makes an annoyed huffing noise, arms crossing over her chest in a remarkably similar manner to a certain silver haired Visored.

“We shouldn’t be involving children.” She says coldly.

“You’re still a child yourself, Sakura-chan.” He points out. She scoffs at him.

“Maybe to you, but I’m at least old enough to know better. Kurosaki Ichigo is _barely_ fifteen.” She says. Urahara remains silent, letting her frown into the distance for a moment before she sighs, shoulders slumping.

“But I know that the kid needs to learn to control his inner hollow and the Visored are the best chance of that. I still don’t have to like it, though.” She says, and her voice is quiet, pained. Urahara’s heart goes out to the girl.

“He won’t turn out the same.” He says gently. Brown eyes cut to him and he straightens under her scrutiny, knowing it was the wrong thing to say. She turns sharply on her heel, spinning away from him, the clink of the chains that fasten her zanpakuto to her belt loud in the sudden quiet.

“I have every intention of making sure he doesn’t.” She says, and there’s an edge to her voice that makes Urahara’s spine stiffen.

“Of course.” He knows he’s treading on shaky ground and so he keeps his gaze on her back, tracking her movements, instead of lowering his eyes like he wants to.

“I have to get back soon, or the others will wonder where I’ve gone.” She glances at him over her shoulder and Urahara shivers. Those sharp brown eyes stare back at him, challenging, and he hides his unease with a bright smile, which he subsequently covers with his fan.

“Yes, yes, I’ll let you know if anything else comes up. Have a good evening, Sakura-chan.” He says cheerfully, giving her a little wave.

Her eyes narrow slightly, no doubt noticing his forced humor, but in the next eye-blink she’s gone.

Urahara doesn’t relax until he’s returned to his shop, because he’s not foolish enough to believe that just because he can’t feel the ex-shinigami’s reiatsu doesn’t mean that she’s not still watching him.


	3. Before the Fall/After the Rise 3

* * *

…Before…

* * *

She dodges a strike from Kensei’s fist, her blade flashing out and catching him in the shoulder, cutting deep. The wound bubbles, the blood that gushes forth looking like it’s boiling, before white begins to leak from the cut.

“His regeneration is getting faster. I don’t think you have much time.” Urahara supplies unhelpfully from the other side of the barrier.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.” Sakura says sarcastically, dodging another hit and leaping away to put some distance between herself and the hollowfied captain.

“How long?” She calls, taking up a defensive stance, her spatha-style sword held loosely in front of her. Kensei growls at her, the noise low and guttural and every bit as feral as he looks. Urahara hums.

“Fifty-two minutes, thirteen-seconds.” He says. She sighs, letting her shoulders drop as she shifts her feet.

“That’s just grea…” She cuts off mid-sentence, eyes widening at the ball of condensed energy forming in front of Kensei’s mask.

“Shit!” She swears.

“Sakura-chan, it’s a cero!” Urahara sounds genuinely worried now, but she ignores him, not daring to take her eyes off of her captain.

“I can see that!” She snaps, left hand moving to her face. She has barely a half-second to hope that this works, that she’s not courting death or worse with this crazy stunt, before the blast is shooting towards her, killing intent heavy and suffocating in the air.

Urahara shields his face with his arm as the resultant explosion kicks up a mighty gust of wind, smoke, and dust, filling the shielded area of the training field with an opaque cloud.

He swears under his breath, taking a step forward like he intends to break through the barrier himself, but Yoruichi’s warning hiss makes him pause.

Instead, he watches, waiting with bated breath.

As the dust settles he is relieved that both figures are still standing. When he gets a clear view, however, he feels his breath catch in his throat.

The mask Sakura has summoned is a feral thing, with two twisting horns jutting out from the top, one on each side of the forehead. The eyes are deep and sunken, like the hollow sockets of a skull. Where the mouth should be there is instead a jagged, broken line, forming the impression of razor sharp teeth. Above and below the eyes are sharp, angular red markings, like bloody diamonds. It is truly a mask fit for a death god, he thinks.

She shifts a little, her feet sliding through the dirt, and Urahara notices the change in her stance immediately. She shakes out her left arm, making her tattoo flex and jump. The charred flesh on her hand where she’d deflected the cero cracks and begins to bleed briefly before it hisses, the skin lightening and smoothing over, good as new.

She flexes her fingers, seemingly checking that they still work, before she lifts her head.

Urahara is frozen in place, unable to move as brilliant golden eyes fall on him, glittering from behind the darkness of the mask. They glow in their intensity, making something in his chest sing out in warning. Every instinct is telling him to step back, to draw his blade, to defend himself.

But then Kensei roars, an animal sound of rage and pain, and she turns away from him, back to the battle at hand.

As she lifts her sword, the straight blade held easily in her grip, she takes a deep breath.

Kensei crouches low, head swinging wildly from side to side, before he charges. She dodges the first attack, deflecting a blow from one wildly swinging fist before catching the bigger man in the side with a vicious kick. He stumbles, giving her an opportunity, and she opens a deep line across his chest that spurts red and white. He roars again, rearing back, and she swings her zanpakuto down towards his head.

He blocks it with one arm, her blade catching in the armor protecting his wrist. She twists her hand, wrenching her sword free and darting forward once more, keeping close and not allowing him to gain any distance. She can see that the black markings are spreading, white seeping across his skin in equal measure, the armor thickening and expanding as it slowly takes over.

She really doesn’t have much time.

He catches her in the stomach with a glancing blow, but it’s enough to make her gasp and stumble, feet skidding in the dirt. He lifts his opposite fist high over his head, swinging it down with every intention of bashing her skull in.

She twists at the last second, hearing his fist whistle past her ear, and he howls as she kicks him in the chest, swinging her sword towards his neck.

An almighty cracking noise fills the air and she freezes, the edge of her blade held centimeters from his skin as the spiderweb of lines spreads farther across his mask. A second passes, his growls dying to nothing, and then it shatters. The rest of his armor crumbles along with it, falling to the ground to disintegrate into dust.

Kensei blinks, the black and gold fading from his eyes as he stares down at her, his gaze narrowing as he takes in her mask and the splashes of blood that litter her clothes and skin.

“Hagasu?” His voice is hoarse and scratchy, but she lowers her weapon, taking a step back and reaching up to dispel her own mask. When she looks up at him, there’s relief and something like happiness curling in her gut.

“Welcome back.” She greets him.

* * *

 …After…

* * *

Sakura stares down at the orange haired kid, who is glaring up at them defiantly, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his pants. To her right, Kensei flicks his gaze from Ichigo to her, something unreadable in his gaze. She ignores him.

“I’m surprised, given how bad you are at detecting spiritual pressure, that you were able to find this place.” Shinji says nonchalantly. Sakura snorts derisively.

“Weren’t you the one who told us to focus our reiatsu on him to help him find this place, Shinji?” She asks pointedly.

“Wha…Sakura-chan!” The blonde whirls on her, red faced, and she smirks at how flustered he is.

“Ah, is that why?” Mashiro asks from above them, sounding curious.

“Of course, stupid. Why else would we do that?” Kensei snaps at her.

“I’m not stupid, you’re stupid!” The green haired girl shouts down at him.

“Why you…”

“Enough!” Shinji bites out, once more turning to look down on Ichigo, who is staring up at them with trepidation.

“Anyway, Ichigo, if you’re here then you must be ready to join us.” He says, wide grin in place. At his side, Kensei feels Sakura flinch.

“No way!” They all blink in surprise, staring down at the kid as he lifts his head defiantly.

“What?” Shinji takes a step back, obviously not having expected that answer. Ichigo continues.

“Me? Join you guys? Are you nuts? I came here to _use_ you guys.” He says, cocksure and confidant. It is Kensei’s turn to flinch, one of Sakura’s hands twitching like she wants to reach for his shoulder to comfort him.

“What did you say?” There’s a deadly edge to Shinji’s voice, the blonde’s eyes narrowing dangerously.

“I’ll never join your group, but you’re going to tell me how to control the hollow inside me.” Ichigo states, as if it’s obvious. Shinji’s jaw ticks as he clenches his teeth, hands stuffing deep into his pockets.

“Who do you think you’re dealing with, brat? We’re not telling you squat.” There’s a curl of real anger in his words now, and Sakura casts her eyes towards him. He’s hunching like he does when he gets seriously angry, and she wonders at the kid’s ability to push all of Shinji’s buttons.

“I’ll get it out of you.” Ichigo declares.

“How?” Shinji asks, voice dropping an octave.

“By force!” The kid certainly has some balls, that’s for sure, but Sakura sees Shinji’s shoulder lift and his spine relax as the anger bleeds out of him.

“That’s a good one.” He snorts, even as the kid makes a grab for something from his pocket. As Ichigo’s soul leaves his body and he lunges for Shinji, Sakura let’s out a sigh, one that makes Kensei cast her another glance. Above them, Shinji tsks and flips his zanpakuto into his hands.

“You’re gonna be a handful.” He mutters, right before the two clash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seeing as some of the events of this story follow very closely to canon, some of the lines are probably going to be very similar to those found in the manga. 
> 
> So, here I am introducing my latest Bleach story. I hope you all like it. 
> 
> Also, I enjoy giving Ichigo a hard time, so there's that to look forward to.
> 
> The spatha was a type of straight sword, measuring anywhere between 0.75 and 1 m (30 and 39 in), in use in the territory of the Roman Empire during the 1st to 6th centuries AD. Later swords, from the 7th to 10th centuries, like the Viking swords, are recognizable derivatives, and sometimes subsumed under the term spatha (Thank you Wikipedia).


	4. Before the Fall/After the Rise 4

* * *

…Before…

* * *

Sakura sits with Mashiro, watching as Rose fights the still hollowfied Shinji. Hiyori, who they’d just pulled out, is laying with Hachi and Tessai. The others are scattered around, watching the fight with exhausted intensity.

For Kensei, when it was just her, Urahara, and Yoruichi, they had each taken a twenty minute turn. Now that there are more people, they’ve been splitting the fights into ten minute intervals. Still, there have been a few times when Yoruichi has had to step in and take over, because they’re all at the very end of their endurance. It had taken Sakura nearly being cut in half by Love for Urahara to finally bench her, and despite her weak protests, once she’d sat down she wasn’t too keen on getting back up again.

She’s startled out of her thoughts when a hand closes around her shoulder and a voice breaks through the haze fogging up her head.

“Hagasu…Sakura!” She blinks up at her captain, whose worried face is mirrored by Mashiro.

“Uh, yes?” She’s surprised, because Kensei has never called her by her first name before. He’s frowning down at her, a deep crease between his eyebrows.

Kensei, in turn, is cataloging the state of his seventh seat. She looks like hell, her face scratched and dirty, blood splattered across her skin and clothes. Her uniform is torn and filthy and there are deep bags under her eyes, a testament to the fact that she hasn’t slept much in the past four days. His grip on the damp cloth in his hand tightens, before he offers it to her.

“Here, wipe your face.” His voice is gruff, but his eyes are gentle as he watches her accept it slowly. It takes less than ten-seconds of her fumbling with exhaustion numb fingers for him to snatch it back, however.

“Honestly, you’re so useless.” He grumbles as he grips her chin with one hand, wielding the damp rag with the other.

“Sorry, Taicho.” She mumbles tiredly. He pauses in cleaning her face.

“Hey, none of that.” He says, voice quiet.

“Sorry. I’m sorry, Taicho.” She’s mortified at the burn of tears at the back of her eyes, but she can’t help it. She’s so tired, pushed beyond her limit both mentally and physically, and the events of the past four days are finally catching up to her. She tries to drop her head to hide her tears, but Kensei’s grip on her chin tightens, preventing her from hiding her face.

“This isn’t your fault.” He says carefully, gently. She squeezes her eyes closed, fighting for some scrap of composure. She feels Mashiro lean into her from behind, arms wrapping around her waist, and takes a deep breath, blinking her eyes open to meet Kensei’s worried gaze.

“Yeah, alright.” She says, voice thick with her unshed tears.

He gives her a strained smile and goes back to cleaning her face, before moving on to her hands, where the dirt and blood has been ground under her nails and into the creases of her fingers.

“You know, you don’t have to call me Taicho anymore.” He points out, voice having fallen back to a rough grumble. She blinks slowly at him, halfway asleep from Mashiro’s warm weight at her back and the steady strokes of the cloth against her skin.

“So, Muguruma-san?” She tries, rolling the name around on her tongue. Kensei shudders a little, face pulling into an unpleasant expression. Mashiro manages to chuff a weak laugh, one that Sakura feels more than hears, pressed along her spine.

“God, no, just…just call me Kensei.” He says, and there’s the faintest tint of pink at the very tips of his ears as he looks anywhere but at her.

Sakura gives him another slow blink, watching until he’s looked back at her, a slow smile spreading across her face.

“Okay…Kensei.”

* * *

…After…

* * *

Sakura is standing between Kensei and Lisa, watching as Ichigo “fights” Shinji. Rose hums thoughtfully.

“The kid’s not bad. He’s holding his own against Shinji.” He says lightly. Lisa snorts.

“Open your eyes, moron. Shinji’s not even trying.” She says derisively.

“I don’t think Ichigo’s trying very hard either.” Hachi points out.

“He’s scared. It’s plain as day.” Love says with a huff.

“Scared? Of what?” Mashiro asks him.

“The hollow.” Kensei supplies, sounding incredulous. “He’s scared of his own inner hollow. Are we actually considering accepting this kid?”

Sakura crosses her arms over her chest.

“I told you so.” She says airily.

“I don’t need any comments from the peanut gallery.” Kensei says tersely, and she sticks her tongue out at him.

From the front, Hiyori lets out a sigh, turning to Hachi.

“Hachigen, put up five more forcefields.” She orders. Before the big man can even nod his head in acquiescence, she leaps into the fray, whacking Shinji across the face with one of her sandals. He flies a good twenty feet, crashing right through the barrier surrounding the warehouse.

Dead silence falls over them, before Hiyori’s angry face turns to the profusely sweating Hachi.

“I told you to put up five more forcefields!” She snaps.

“But…you didn’t give me time!” The big man whines plaintively.

Sakura sighs, uncrossing her arms as Hiyori verbally lays into Ichigo.

“Where’re you going, Sakura-chan?” Mashiro asks as the other woman hops down from their perch.

“I’m gonna go dig Shinji out of the rubble.” She supplies, trotting across the warehouse floor to where the lanky man had indeed landed in a pile of broken concrete. She doesn’t even pause when Hiyori’s hollow reiatsu saturates the air, not looking up as she hears the tiny blonde’s voice change.

A few minutes later and she drags Shinji’s bleeding, complaining body back to the others, dropping him unceremoniously by Hachi, who’s sweating and shaking as he maintains a new set of barriers.

“You okay, Hachi?” She hears Mashiro ask.

“No, I’m not okay.” The pink haired man says, voice strained.

Sakura ignores them, moving back to stand beside Kensei, looking up at the two combatants still exchanging blows.

Ichigo looks the worse for wear, his shihakusho tattered and blood seeping from the dozen or so wounds that litter his body. Her jaw clenches as she watches black bleed slowly across his eyes. Kensei’s hand on her shoulder makes her eyes slant to him. He’s watching her with a sympathetic expression, but she doesn’t get a chance to speak because Ichigo’s reiatsu changes.

It’s not a slow change, either, but a sudden, frightening shift, like being doused in icy water. It feels wrong, warped, something akin to having broken glass dragged across your skin, sharp and jagged and wholly unpleasant.

Sakura’s head snaps up the same time Kensei’s does, watching as Ichigo lunges for the startled Hiyori, hand closing tight around her throat, howling the whole way.

“Hachi!” Sakura shouts, not taking her eyes off of the two trapped in the forcefield, hand going for her zanpakuto as she jumps into action. She can hear a terrible choking noise coming from Hiyori, but pushes down her fear as she falls in with the others.

When the dust clears, she has the tip of her sword pressed to the back of Ichigo’s neck, fully prepared to sever the kid’s spine if she needs to. It is Shinji, however, who cracks the still unformed mask off of the boy’s face, before taking a step back.

“That’s quite enough of that. Are you satisfied now, Hiyori?” He turns to ask the blonde, who is cowering against a pillar, wiping the tears and spit from her face.

Sakura doesn’t wait around to hear the rest of Shinji’s speech, simply stays long enough to make sure Ichigo isn’t going to lose himself again, before turning and heading for the kitchen.

She really needs a drink.


	5. Before the Fall/After the Rise 5

* * *

…Before…

* * *

“Isn’t she a little young for you?” Rose asks.

Kensei ignores him, completely focused on re-doing his hand wraps. The conversation, however, makes Lisa look up from her magazine, glasses glinting strangely.

“Yeah, Kensei, talk about robbing the cradle. She was only, what, sixty, when we left?” She teases. He growls at her, which she completely brushes off.

“Who’s too young for stupid Kensei?” Mashiro asks.

“Sakura-chan.” Love answers.

“Ooh. Wow, I didn’t know stupid Kensei was a pervert, too.” The green haired girl chirps. One of Kensei’s eyes twitches.

“Wait, what?!” The shrill yelp is followed by a crash as Shinji falls out of his chair.

“You didn’t know, Shinji?” Rose asks the blonde casually.

“No, I didn't! What are you doing to our precious Sakura-chan, you muscle bound idiot? Are you corrupting her?” He gets right in Kensei's face, which is apparently too much for the silver haired Visored.

“Shut up! Nothing’s even happened yet!” He yells, slamming a fist down on the table with enough force to crack the Formica.

“YET?!” Shinji is in near hysterics, but he quiets down when a foot kicks him in the butt, sending him to the ground.

“Soul King help me, will you shut up.” Sakura is standing in the doorway with Hiyori, several bags of takeout split between them. Shinji mumbles something into the floor before he pushes himself up on his palms.

“Say it isn’t so, Sakura-chan!” He nearly wails.

“What are you going on about now?” She asks him as she steps over him to get to the table. Ignoring the cracks radiating out from in front of Kensei, she and Hiyori start divvying up takeout containers.

“He wants to know if it’s true that you and Kensei are going steady.” Lisa supplies, taking the carton of noodles and the pair of chopsticks that are handed to her with a quick ‘thank you.’

“Yeah, what of it?” Sakura looks bemused, but at her words Shinji falls back to the ground in a heap, clutching his chest.

"Oh, my heart can't take this. WHY?" He cries dramatically.

"Oh for the love of…what's it to you who I date?" Sakura snaps at him.

"He's too old for you!" Shinji yells from the floor.

"I am _eighty-two years old_ , Shinji!"

"And Kensei's only, like, two-hundred-and-forty." Mashiro supplies unhelpfully around a mouthful of food.

"You're not helping!" Sakura snaps at her.

"You're just a baby!" Shinji cries, continuing to wail until Hiyori, obviously as fed up with him as Sakura is, throws her sandal at his head. It bounces off and goes sailing right back to her, where she catches it one handed.

"Be quiet already!" She yells.

As the two blondes fall into a tussle on the floor, Sakura sits down next to Kensei, wordlessly passing him his share of the food.

"Are you mad?" He asks her, quietly.

"No, it’s actually probably better that it came out this way. Now shut up and eat."

* * *

...After...

* * *

Ichigo is trying to catch the brunette, Hagasu Sakura, but she’s as elusive as a ghost. She had been there when Shinji had put him under to fight his inner hollow, but by the time he woke up, still lying in the dirt, she was gone. But he can still feel her eyes on him, watching.

After that, it’s as if he’s always just missing her. Whenever he enters a room it’s to see her exiting it. She’s absent from a lot of meals, mainly breakfast and lunch, and when she is present it’s on days where he’s so terribly exhausted from training that he falls asleep in his food. The one time he does stumble across her she’s lying on one of the overstuffed couches in the lounge, wearing headphones and reading a book.

He doesn’t think interrupting her will gain him any brownie points, especially since Muguruma just so happens to be sharing the couch with her, her feet in his lap. If Hagasu doesn’t kick his ass, then Kensei will.

Ichigo has no idea why is bothers him so much that the brunette doesn’t seem to like him, but it does. Maybe it’s because he’s getting used to the constant feeling of her heavy stare on his back, or the fact that she’s the only one who hasn’t screamed at him at some point or another, but he finds himself wanting to talk to her.

Finally, curiosity getting the better of him, he asks Shinji about her.

“Sakura-chan?” The blonde blinks at him and Ichigo nods. Shinji shrugs.

“Helping you exposes us, puts us in danger. She’s super protective of her family, that’s all. When she’s ready, she’ll find you.” He says, before wandering off.

But Ichigo isn’t willing to wait.

It’s on one of the rare days where she’s watching him train that he finally gets an opportunity to speak with her. In hindsight, he probably should have gone about it a little differently.

He’d asked, or more like demanded, that someone other than Hiyori train with him. As the others were all either preoccupied or unwilling, he had turned and pointed at Sakura, who was leaning against a nearby boulder.

“Spar with me.” He maybe shouldn’t have projected so much, because the inflection and how he worded it made it sound like an order, rather than a request.

The others have gone unnaturally silent, watching him with a mix of wariness and trepidation.

Those sharp brown eyes blink slowly at him, her head tilting slightly to one side, before she stands from her spot.

“Do you mind, Hiyori-chan?” Her voice is smooth, with no discernible accent, which he finds odd. The blonde shrugs, but she’s tucked her chin in such a way that Ichigo is starting to realize means that she’s not happy about something.

“You can’t kill him.” She says as she hops down to the floor. Sakura casts her a look out of the corner of her eye and Hiyori’s shoulders square up, even as her mask vanishes.

“I mean it, Sakura-chan.” She warns, voice firm. The brunette lets a breath out of her nose, a huff that sounds very nearly disappointed.

“Fine.” She sounds almost petulant as she unhooks the two chains that secure her zanpakuto to her waist, turning to toss the sheathed straight sword to Muguruma. He catches it one handed, watching her with the same wary expression as Hiyori.

“No crippling injuries, either, babe.” Kensei calls, and she rolls her eyes, but nods in acquiescence.

“Yeah, yeah.” She turns back around to face Ichigo, and he is struck by the brightness of her irises as they lighten from brown to yellow, the sclera bleeding black. She smirks, fragments of bone materializing in the air above her face.

“Do try and keep up, Kurosaki-san.” She says lightly, voice distorting into the familiar cadence he’s come to associate with the Visored, with himself and his inner hollow.

What he isn’t anticipating is for her to vanish completely from his sight.

He blinks, jerking upright as he casts around for her. Left, right, up, even behind him, but he can’t see her. It’s around then that he realizes he can’t sense her, either, her reiatsu having vanished as well. He shakes his head, pinches his arm, and a fist sinks deep into the soft, fleshy part of his solar plexus, just under his rib cage. For a fraction of a second he just stares at it, completely caught off guard, before the pain catches up to him. He folds nearly in half with an agonizing jerk, bile burning the back of his throat as vomit hits the floor, liberally flecked with blood. He coughs, wincing as he tries to straighten and his abdomen protests, but it’s the sight of the mask she’s wearing that makes him truly freeze.

It's a vicious looking thing, all twisting horns and jagged teeth and wide, pitch black eye holes, like the empty sockets of a skull. He can just see her lips underneath the edge, the upward tilt on one side as she smirks, the glitter of those bright yellow eyes as they stay fixed on him.

“You should be careful, Kurosaki-san, whom you goad. I’m not nearly as patient as Hiyori-chan and I have very little interest in pulling my punches.” Her head tilts and Ichigo is reminded of a predator, analyzing its prey. He swallows thickly.

“You really should call your mask.” She continues conversationally.

“Even without my zanpakuto I might accidentally end up killing you.”

As he reaches up for his face, desperately calling for that dreaded part of himself, Ichigo thinks that there would be nothing accidental about it.

Later, as he’s nursing his extensive injuries in the converted office that they use as a makeshift infirmary, she finds him.

“Why do you hate me?” He manages to ask. She’d one-sidedly pummeled him for a solid fifteen minutes, cracking four of his ribs and bruising what feels like all of his internal organs, before Shinji had put a stop to their “spar”.

He’d learned very quickly that she favors a style akin to kick-boxing, switching between kicks and punches with lightning fast speed and unnerving accuracy. The unpredictability of her attacks, coupled with how fast she was, had made it almost impossible to keep up with her.

She watches him for a moment, gaze cold, before she lets out a long sigh.

“I don’t hate you, Kurosaki-san. But you’re flashy and powerful and that has caused Aizen to take an interest in you.” She says. He blinks, lifting his head to stare at her quizzically. One of her eyebrows ticks up.

“Because Aizen has taken an interest in you, his gaze is not far from you. And I am painfully aware of what happens when Aizen sets his sights on a person. Every moment you spend here puts my family in danger.” She says icily. Ichigo hunches over, as much to ease the ache in his abdomen as anything else.

“The Visored are strong.” He points out. Sakura snorts derisively.

“I’m well aware. But Aizen can trick the mind and manipulate the senses with just a thought. All it takes is for a person to see him unleash his zanpakuto once. Just once. And that’s it. He can make comrades seem like enemies, turn brother against brother. No matter how strong a person is, if they fall under his power, then it’s game over.” She says. He regards her for a moment before speaking again.

“And I’m the only person who hasn’t seen his zanpakuto, which means I’m the only one who isn’t subject to its influence.” He says. Sakura’s lips thin and her eyes narrow, which is answer enough for him. Ichigo continues.

“You also don’t like putting all of your hope on one person.” He concludes.

“You’re _fifteen_ , Kurosaki-san. You’re a child. Not only is placing this kind of responsibility on your shoulders unrealistic, but it’s also unfair.” He isn’t expecting that last part and blinks up at her in surprise.

Her gaze softens, just a little.

“The sooner you’re gone the happier I’ll be. The others really wanted you to join us, but you’re too…” She pauses, obviously searching for the right word.

“Strong?” He cuts in. Her eyes narrow again as her scowl returns.

“I was going to say impulsive and irrational, actually.” She hisses and he ducks his head.

“You lose your cool the instant a fight starts getting away from you. You throw yourself into battle with no regard for technique or strategy or finesse. And you fail to see the bigger picture.” She says. Ichigo winces as she iterates each point, but at the last one he frowns at her.

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“You don’t know your enemy at all.” She points out flatly.

“Aizen is Aizen.” Ichigo says, as if it’s obvious. Sakura heaves another heavy sigh, eyes sliding closed as she pinches the bridge of her nose in apparent frustration.

“Aizen’s plans are planned around plans that haven’t been planned yet.” She says, tersely. Ichigo just stares at her blankly.

“Think of all of this,” Here she waves a hand back and forth between them. “As a chess game. But it’s a chess game within a chess game within a chess game, ad infinitum, and each move of each chess game has been thought out to the nth degree, because even moving a single pawn could change the outcome of a game 16 degrees away.” She says. Ichigo’s eyes widen and she nods at his slow dawning comprehension.

“Aizen doesn’t just plan, Kurosaki-san. He plots and he schemes and he strategizes until every possible outcome has been as well thought out as is physically possible. Nothing he does is without purpose, without reason, and without a fail-safe.” She turns, taking a step towards the door, but not before throwing one last statement over her shoulder.

“That means, Kurosaki-san, that you were no doubt planned for, and he has something in the works lined up to deal with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, Ichigo, didn't you ever learn to not poke sleeping animals? They tend to be prone to biting when provoked. 
> 
> If anyone is wondering, I based Sakura's mask off of the one Shin-ah wears in Akatsuki No Yona. 
> 
> Also, next chapter isn't going to start with a "Before" part, as we're going to start focusing on the present story line.


	6. Calm Before The Storm

Sakura is sitting on the floor with her back to Kensei’s chest, his legs on either side of hers. He has his chin resting on her shoulder, looking down at where their hands are intertwined, while her eyes are unfocused, staring into the middle distance. There’s a book open in her lap, but she hasn’t read a single word in over twenty minutes.

The others, sans Shinji, are also sitting around in the underground training area, the trapdoor above them closed and warded. Lisa is staring down at her magazine, but her eyes don’t move. Rose’s guitar is sitting beside him, untouched. Even Mashiro is quiet, which says a lot about the situation.

Sakura flinches as the reiatsu a few miles away spikes and Kensei’s arms tighten around her, comforting.

“Shinji is fighting with that Arrancar.” Her voice is soft, but it carries to the others. They’re all tense, waiting, poised.

“Shinji’ll be all right.” Hiyori says, though her voice doesn’t hold its usual conviction. Sakura grimaces, eyes still unfocused.

“Maybe, but we have no idea how this one compares to the last two in terms of strength.” Love says roughly.

“We do, actually. It’s the same one that came last time.” Sakura supplies, before she flinches again. A few more tense moments follow and then she relaxes, sagging back into Kensei as her eyes slide closed.

“They’re gone.” She says, sounding unbearably tired.

“And Shinji?” Rose asks, though the others already know.

“Shinji is fine.”

Indeed, a few minutes later Hachi’s head lifts and the barrier keeping the trapdoor sealed dissipates, letting Shinji hop down to the dirt floor. He doesn’t even look ruffled, but he allows them each their worried scrutiny before he plops down on a flat rock with a sigh.

“Well, that ended in an anti-climax.” He huffs. Sakura’s lips thin as she frowns.

“I don’t like it.” She says from her spot huddled in Kensei’s arms. Shinji glances at her, before nodding.

“You too, huh?” He asks, sounding resigned.

“What’dya mean?” Hiyori cuts in.

“It was too abrupt. Why would they retreat in the middle of the fight?” Sakura points out. Across from her, Shinji frowns.

“There’s something. The one that stopped the fight between me and the blue haired Arrancar. He said that the mission was accomplished and that the day was theirs. From what I could tell of the other battles, compared to mine, that doesn’t seem like the case.” He says.

Sakura hums, letting her head fall back against Kensei’s shoulder, thinking. Suddenly, she tenses, her head snapping up to fix Shinji with worried brown eyes.

“Unless…it was a diversion?” It may have been phrased as a question, but there is no uncertainty in her tone. Shinji’s eyes widen as, at her back, Kensei also tenses up.

“That certainly seems likely, given the situation.” Love says cautiously.

“But what were they after, if not Ichigo or the other Shinigami?” Hachi questions. The others start voicing their theories, bouncing ideas around as to why the Arrancar were there, if not to pick a fight with the Soul Society.

Through the chatter Sakura sits silently, staring off into space.

“Kurosaki Ichigo’s friends, are they all accounted for?” She finally asks, quietly. The others fall silent, turning to look at her. Shinji blinks, before his eyes narrow.

“I don’t know. But it makes no sense to take any of them.” He says. Sakura shakes her head.

“Doesn’t it? We know Kurosaki is impulsive, to the point where the Soul Society can’t control him. If Aizen took one of his friends, wouldn’t he do anything to get them back?” She asks.

“But the Soul Society would back him up, because they know they need his cooperation to win against Aizen.” Lisa cuts in. Sakura drops her eyes and taps her chin, before she looks back to Shinji.

“Maybe. Unless…the one who called the retreat, where was he during the rest of the battle?” She asks. The blonde shrugs.

“I dunno. One minute I’m fighting the blue one, the next that creepy looking guy is stepping in.” He says.

“You didn’t feel him before then?” She presses. Shinji frowns, thinking, before shaking his head.

“Nope.”

“So where was he during the rest of the fighting?” She asks. Shinji scrutinizes her with a grim expression.

“You think he was off kidnapping one of Ichigo’s friends?” It’s not really a question. Sakura folds her hands together and rests her chin on her laced fingers, expression solemn.

“The entire battle seemed staged, designed to lure out the maximum number of combatants. It was a show. I don’t think this was a kidnapping, at all. In order to prevent the Soul Society from interfering, it has to look like whoever was taken is leaving of their own free will.” She says.

“Then the Gotei 13 will see it as a betrayal and withdraw their support.” Shinji continues, dawning comprehension washing over his face. Sakura nods.

“But Kurosaki won’t, and will ignore the orders of the Soul Society, going after this person regardless of whether or not he has their backing.” She says.

“And falling right into Aizen’s trap.” Kensei says. Sakura nods again. Shinji’s expression is grim.

“But who was it?” He asks. They all fall quiet again, a few moments passing in silence before Sakura jerks her head up, turning to stare at Hachi with wide eyes.

“Inoue Orihime.” She says, dawning horror in her voice. They all tense at that, before Love curses violently under his breath, Shinji and Kensei not far behind him.

“You’re sure?” Hachi asks her, looking worried. Sakura chews on her bottom lip, but she looks certain.

“It fits. Only three of his friends have manifested powers, that we know of. Ishida Uryu is a Quincy who, last we’d heard, had lost his powers. Yasutora Chad, while having incredible strength and destructive capabilities, doesn’t seem likely. But Inoue Orihime possesses great healing and shielding abilities, without a reliable offensive trait. Also, from what I could gather of her personality while she was here, if her friends were threatened…” Here, she trails off, leaving Shinji to finish her sentence.

“She’d go quietly.” He says, wide eyed. Sakura’s silence is answer enough. Shinji sighs, running a hand through his hair in agitation, before lifting his gaze back to their youngest member. His smile is grim.

“It’s kinda horrifying, sometimes, how easily you think like that bastard.” Shinji points out. Sakura shrugs.

“It makes sense to remove the biggest threat from the battlefield. Inoue Orihime can heal multiple fighters within a matter of minutes and Kurosaki Ichigo is a powerhouse, one that just keeps getting stronger the more time goes by. With them out of the way, Soul Society will be defenseless against Aizen’s Kyoka Suigetsu and Kanzen Saimin.” She says.

Shinji nods, before pushing himself to his feet.

“Yeah, okay, it does make sense. I’ll send a message to Urahara, but I don’t want any of us running around until the Shinigami have cleaned up and moved on.” He says. The others nod in agreement, but they all seem disinclined to get up from their various spots.

“Can we sleep down here?” Mashiro’s voice sounds uncharacteristically small from where she’s curled up next to Hiyori.

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.” Love says, laying back and putting his latest copy of Jump over his face.

“Seconded.” Lisa pipes up, turning her back to them.

“Agreed.” Says Hachi, clapping his hands together to summon another barrier.

“I’ll take first watch.” Rose offers.

As they all settle in for the night Sakura leans back against Kensei, turning slightly so she can press her ear to his chest. He drops his cheek against her hair as she closes her eyes, lulled to sleep by the steady beat of his heart.

* * *

She really hates being right, sometimes.

Sakura is helping Kensei make dinner, lost in thought as she preps while he does all of the actual cooking.

The rest of the warehouse is surprisingly quiet, the others all tucked away in their own spaces. The loud ones, primarily Hiyori and Mashiro, are downstairs on the training field, taking out their aggression and frustration on each other. They can be as loud as they want down there, what with Hachi’s barriers acting as soundproofing as well as a reiatsu dampener.

Sakura pauses in her chopping and stares down at her hands where they tremble slightly above the cutting board. She sets the knife down and clasps her hands together, trying to stop them from shaking.

“Babe?” She looks up at Kensei, at his worried face, and blinks rapidly to dispel the fog in her head.

“Yeah?” She asks. He frowns at her.

“You’re worried about those kids, aren’t you?” He asks, taking off his oven mitts. She sighs, shoulders sagging as she drops her head, staring down at her pile of half-chopped carrots.

“I’m worried about a lot of things.” She admits. His hand lands on her shoulder and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

“Everything’ll turn out all right. We’ve survived this long.” He points out. She shakes her head.

“But there’s no guarantee, _especially_ against someone like Aizen.” She says. Kensei sighs, before tugging gently at her shoulder.

“C’mere.” He says gruffly, pulling her into his arms. She goes willingly, settling her cheek against his chest as he rests his chin on the crown of her head. Her arms wrap around his waist as his go around her shoulders.

“We’ll be all right.” He assures her. She heaves a heavy sigh.

“Everything will change, though, come tomorrow.” She says, dejected.

“Change is inevitable, given time.” He says philosophically. She snorts a weak laugh.

“You’re such a sap.” She grins.

“Don’t you dare tell anyone.” He says tersely, smiling despite his gruff tone. She pulls away a little.

“I wouldn’t dream of ruining your reputation.” She chuckles.

“Good, now help me finish dinner before those idiots starve to death.” He orders, arms dropping from around her as he steps away, back towards the stove. She gives him a mock salute.

“Yes, sir!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kyoka Suigetsu: Mirror Flower, Water Moon. Aizen Sosuke's zanpakuto.  
> Kanzen Saimin: Complete Hypnosis, Kyoka Suigetsu's special ability. 
> 
> Sakura is primarily a sensor type, combining her superior speed and tactical skills to act as the Visored's strategist.


	7. To Peel Off

* * *

 Does the wolf apologize  
When it stands on top?  
Should the lion say his grace  
When he takes his mark?  
The mountain won't fall to its knees when the west wind blows

\- _Stay Alive_ , Hidden Citizens ft. REMMI

* * *

Sakura doesn’t say anything as she follows along behind Lisa, Mashiro on her left, Hiyori on her right, the guys trailing behind them. While outwardly she appears fine, her gut is a roiling mess, fear and anxiety tumbling together in a twisted snarl in her belly.

Something of her inner turmoil must show on her face, because Hachi’s kind voice very nearly makes her trip over nothing.

“Are you nervous, Sakura-chan?” He asks softly.

“A-ah, just a little.” She admits with a weak little laugh, eyes downcast as she focuses on her feet. Truthfully, she can’t look at any of them. She wants to remember them as they had been the night before, joking and laughing over dinner. She just knows that, at the end of today, nothing is going to be the same.

A sudden thought makes her draw up short, almost causing Shinji to run into her back. He blinks, peering curiously over her shoulder into her face.

“What’s wrong?” He asks her. She casts him a quick glance, frowning.

“I’m just thinking that it’d probably be for the best if one of us went to Urahara’s, see if he has anything for us.” She says. Shinji’s head tilts, mouth turning down at the corners.

“Eh, but then whoever goes will miss the opening salvo.” He sounds disappointed. They’ve gained the attention of the others, by this point, but Sakura merely shrugs.

“I’ll go. I don’t mind.” She says. Shinji frowns as he stares down at her, but he finally shrugs.

“If you wanna…” He says dismissively. Her smile is grateful, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. The blonde isn’t the only one who notices, either. As Sakura steps away, a hand closes around her wrist, drawing her up short. Kensei leads her a dozen or so steps away from the others, giving them the illusion of privacy.

“You okay?” He asks quietly. She stares up at him, her smile sliding from her face. She just looks tired.

“Not really. I feel kinda like I did at my graduation from the Academy, actually: like I’m gonna be sick.” She admits. One corner of his mouth tugs up in a little smile and he pulls her into a tight hug.

“Well, be careful and hurry up. We’ll be waiting.” He says into her hair. She squeezes him back and draws away. Looking up into his eyes she bites her lip. Before he can step back she stands on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his mouth, ignoring the exaggerated retching noises Shinji is making.

“Don’t die until I get there.” She tells him seriously. Kensei chuffs a laugh against her cheek, his face as red as Hiyori’s tracksuit, and kisses her back just as quickly.

“You know me. I’m made of tougher stuff than that.” He assures her. Her smile this time is more genuine, but sadder.

“Yeah, all right.” She admits, drawing away. With a little wave and one last glance at Kensei, she’s gone.

“I swear, you two give me cavities.” Shinji complains as Kensei rejoins the group. The silver-haired Visored can only smirk at the blonde, his face still tinged pink.

“Jealous, Hirako?” He teases.

“As if!” Is the yelled response.

* * *

Sakura doesn’t think she’s ever run faster in her life.

Unohana is already on the battlefield, a shield erected around her, tending to the wounded. When Sakura lands with a light thud, Mashiro draped across her back, the older woman doesn’t so much as bat an eyelash. Once she’s checked to make sure that the green haired girl’s injuries don’t require immediate treatment, she waves them away.

“Put her with the others.” She commands, leaving Sakura to turn to Shinji, who is still bleeding but alive. He’s standing over the others, who are all huddled in a little group, watching the Shinigami warily.

“Sakura-chan,” He greets her, taking Mashiro from her to lay the girl out between Lisa and Kensei. Sakura had used the plaid shirt she usually keeps tied around her waist to bind the worst of Mashiro’s wounds, and while the fabric is bloodstained it hasn’t yet been saturated. When Shinji turns back to Sakura after inspecting the makeshift bandage, he is mortified to find tears brimming in her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” She blurts out, and it shocks him enough to make him pause.

“I’m so sorry, for everything.” She looks like she’s about to burst out crying and Shinji waves his hands around frantically, trying to stem the tide. Honestly, he’s never been good around crying girls.

“No no no, Sakura-chan. Look, everyone’s alive! We’re a little banged up, but Unohana-san said that she can stabilize Hiyori until Orihime-chan gets here, and then…” But he cuts off when Sakura shakes her head.

“That’s not it.” She says and now he’s really confused.

“Sakura-chan?” He blinks at her and she takes a deep breath, but a voice from behind her interrupts them.

“We don’t have much time.” They both turn to see Urahara standing a few feet away, watching them with a grim expression.

“Kurosaki-kun can’t hold him off for much longer.” He says. Sakura’s shoulders droop a little as she nods.

“Yeah, I know. Just…give me a minute.” Urahara nods back, turning away to give them some privacy. Sakura turns back to face Shinji, face pained. He, however, is alarmed.

“Wait just a damn minute. Urahara, Sakura-chan can’t go up against Aizen alone! Let her stay here with us.” He sputters, glaring the other man down when he turns back towards them. Urahara frowns.

“With all due respect, Shinji-san, we need every available fighter we can get.” He says tersely. Shinji has just opened his mouth to retort, but it is Sakura, herself, who derails him.

“Urahara is right, Shinji. Just…please believe me when I say I’m really sorry, for everything.” She says, and if Shinji wasn’t alarmed before, he is now.

“Sakura-chan, what’s going on?” He asks. She shakes her head again.

“There’s no time, but I promise I’ll explain everything, answer all of your questions, once this is all over. Just, please, promise me you’ll give me a chance, at the end.” She looks up at him imploringly and Shinji has never before seen such fear and desperation in her eyes. It sobers him, makes his heart squeeze painfully in his chest as he stares down at her.

“ _Please_ , Shinji.” He blinks, realizing he hasn’t answered her, and gives her a jerky nod.

“Okay.” He says. Her smile is weak and watery and she nods back, turning away to join Urahara.

Shinji watches them disappear with a heavy feeling settling into the pit of his stomach. One that intensifies when Aizen’s reiatsu suddenly and unexpectedly washes over them.

He tenses, crouching down beside his little dysfunctional family, and waits.

They all watch as the entirely white-shrouded figure of Aizen appears in the sky, batting away Ichigo’s attacks like one would swat at a fly. The sudden appearance of Urahara seems to derail him for a moment, but his smugness bleeds through into his voice.

“You’ve come at last, Urahara Kisuke.” He mocks. Urahara, for his part, simply cocks his head to the side, a disarming smile spreading across his face.

“After all this time, that’s all you can say to me? And after I went to all the trouble of bringing a special guest to see you.” He says blithely.

Aizen blinks, confused, but it is in that instant that Sakura appears behind him, Visored mask in place as she twists in mid-air, her kick aimed squarely for the ex-shinigami’s head.

When he lands, two hundred yards from the barrier, it is with a resounding boom, the resultant crater easily twice as wide across as he is tall. Predictably, Aizen straightens up out of the center of said crater, staring up at Sakura with a bland expression.

“One of the failed pseudo-Arrancar. Really, Urahara? I thought you would come at me with something a little more original than that.” He sneers. Sakura tilts her head, just a little, and her reiatsu spikes, pulsing in the air around them.

Something about it makes Aizen freeze, his eyes widening until they are impossibly large, staring up at her with disbelief written clearly across his features.

“What is this?” His voice sounds like it’s been punched out of him, a disbelieving hiss that makes Shinji realize that he’s never seen Aizen truly flustered before. The expression on his face is one of shock, incredulity, and _fear_. Slowly, Sakura descends to land in front of the barrier, putting herself between them and the fallen shinigami, and Aizen’s eyes track her the whole way.

Silently, she reaches up to remove her mask, but instead of letting it dissipative like normal she instead holds it in her hands, lowering it so she can meet Aizen’s gaze head on.

The silence stretches on for long enough that Shinji starts to worry, but Aizen eventually seems to regain some kind of control over himself and his motor functions.

“What are you doing here, Sakura?” He asks.

Shinji freezes, feeling the others stiffen at his back, because there’s _familiarity_ in Aizen’s tone.

Sakura’s head tilts a little, a wry smile spreading across her face.

“It’s been so long, I was afraid that you had forgotten me. As to why I’m here, you know the answer to that, don’t you, _Big Brother_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sakura's last name, Hagasu, is written as "to peel off".


	8. Come Untied

* * *

 I do what I need to  
What I have to  
To survive  
Well, you can try  
To be civilized  
But I'm gonna stay alive  
Closer than a friend, I can be your enemy  
Closer than a friend for you to make a remedy

\- _Stay Alive_ , Hidden Citizens ft. REMMI

* * *

Shinji feels like all the air has been punched out of his lungs.

He can feel the others at his back, but he’s not really conscious of them. All he’s aware of is the rushing in his ears, the thunder of his heart, the steadily growing pressure in his chest.

He must have heard wrong, he thinks vaguely, because there’s no way that their Sakura-chan is related to…

Aizen’s eyes are still too wide, but his mouth is turning down at the corners in a frown.

“So they sent you here to kill me, did they? My own little sister.” He murmurs. It’s not a question, not even really meant for anyone else to hear, but the words make Shinji’s heart stutter in his chest.

An image of Sakura’s face, desperate and pleading with him to let her explain, that she was sorry, flashes through his mind, and he sucks in a breath.

“I see. And that mask, did Urahara Kisuke do that to you?” Aizen asks her. Sakura shakes her head.

“I did it to myself.” She replies, which is confusing, because how is that even possible? But Shinji’s brain has stalled, already overfull to the point where he just _can’t unpack that_.

Aizen, too, looks confused and Sakura hefts her mask in her right hand, turning it to face her.

“I made it from my own condensed reiatsu. In that sense it acts as a limiter, just like my tattoo does. Tessai-san helped me weave the spells into it afterwards, to make it appear more authentic. It was quite time consuming, actually.” She says conversationally.

“So you were here all along, hiding in the human world with those _Visored_.” Aizen spits. Sakura doesn’t answer and his eyes narrow.

“Why?” He asks angrily. Sakura shrugs.

“Because I swore I would protect them.” She says, matter-of-factly.

“To whom?” Aizen’s voice has dropped dangerously low, but Sakura seems unfazed.

“To myself.” She answers easily. Aizen’s face darkens further, the white of the Hogyoku creeping up his neck.

“And now that you’ve confronted me, what will you do?” He asks coldly. Sakura’s face drops, solemn, resigned.

“I would like to end this without further fighting, but I’m not naive enough to believe that will happen.” She says.

“Indeed.” Aizen says, the Hogyoku in his chest beginning to pulse.

“Wait a minute!” Ichigo yells from above them. They both look up to the orange haired kid, who is staring down at Sakura incredulously.

“Who the hell are you?” He asks, obviously confused. Sakura regards him for a moment before speaking.

“My name is Aizen Sakura, of the Zero Division, and you’ll do well to stay out of this fight, Kurosaki Ichigo.” She says, raising her voice to be heard.

“You speak as if you have enough power to defeat me, _Imouto_.” Aizen hisses. Sakura’s smile is devoid of any real humor, more of a grimace than anything else.

“Perhaps, _Aniki_.” She says noncommittally, before extending her left arm straight out from her body, holding it at shoulder height.

“Tokeru.” She commands. It starts at her wrist, the black of her tattoo lighting up before dissolving as the seal is undone. As the last of the ink dissipates there’s a fraction of a second of stillness before Sakura’s unrestrained reiatsu explodes outwards. The mask in her hand creaks under the strain before shattering into a million tiny fragments. The outpouring of her spiritual pressure appears in the air around her as physical flames that flicker green and white, stretching up in a great column towards the sky.

Across from her, Aizen also starts to glow as the Hogyoku’s power surges right before it erupts in a massive explosion.

Shinji stiffens, every fiber of his being screaming out in warning as the two overwhelming waves of pure, unadulterated power wash over him. He gasps for breath, the pressure almost too much to bare as black threatens to creep in at the corners of his vision. He manages to keep his head up, though, eyes casting to the others to make sure they’re all right. All of them are watching the two combatants outside the shield with wide, horrified eyes.

“Is that really…Sakura-chan?” Lisa’s voice sounds disbelieving, and Shinji can’t blame her.

Because the sheer magnitude of the reiatsu he feels, the one that he’s always associated with the youngest member of their group, is overwhelming. It’s far beyond what he’s ever felt from her before, reaching and exceeding the levels of even someone from the advanced captain-class. Also, there’s none of the dark taint that comes from their hollow sides, having vanished with her mask as if it never existed. It leaves behind a spiritual pressure that reminds him of soil after the first rain of the season, deep and dark and rich. It sings along his spine, settling at the back of his head in a steady pulse that he quickly recognizes as the drum of a heartbeat.

He keeps his eyes open, waiting and watching.

As the dust settles, he can see Sakura still standing in front of the barrier, though her left arm is now blank, little more than another expanse of pale skin. She’s drawn her zanpakuto, holding it loosely at her right side.

Across from her, stepping out of the cloud of dust and debris, is a figure swathed all in white, featureless, with haunting, empty eyes.

“Shall we begin?” Aizen voice asks from the mask-like face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tokeru means "come untied".
> 
> Imouto = littler sister  
> Aniki = big brother
> 
> So, did anyone actually see that coming? I'm curious.


	9. Eat the World

When she was a little girl, Senjumaru had made Sakura a kimono. Dark green silk with tiny, delicately embroidered cherry blossoms scattered across the fabric, it had been a beautiful thing and her favorite for many years. When she had outgrown it Sakura had been heartbroken, but Senjumaru had simply smiled and asked if she could have the kimono back.

When she’d returned it, Sakura was delighted to find that her childhood clothes had been made into an equally beautiful coat. The remade garment held all of the charm and detail of the original, but in a size that now fit.

This is a little like that.

It had been so long since Sakura has stepped into the full range of her power. A hundred and sixteen years the tattoo on her left arm had sealed away a large portion of her reiatsu, regulating the output of her reiryoku so that she could blend in with normal Shinigami and later with the Visored.

For a few startling seconds, as she stands under the full weight of her own spiritual pressure, she struggles to breath. It feels like sandpaper under her flesh, the scratch and grit of it making her skin feel far too small, itchy and unpleasant. But then, like the coat made from her childhood kimono, her reiatsu settles around her. It’s like a warm embrace from an old friend, familiar and welcome. The itchy feeling recedes, becoming little more than a soft buzzing at the back of her skull.

She hefts her zanpakuto in her right hand and observes the…thing that had once been her older brother.

White sheathes it from head to toe, save for a few black lines and those black, empty, sightless eyes.

“What have you become, Aniki?” She asks him sadly. His head tilts in question, then he spreads out his arms.

“I have not finished my evolution, Imouto. I have yet to become anything.” He says. Her face crumples a little.

“I guess I shouldn’t be too terribly surprised. It’s understandable, actually.” She says.

“Oh? How so?” Aizen asks. Sakura’s expression turns thoughtful.

“Well, think about it. I haven’t seen you in over a hundred and fifty years. A great many things were bound to change in that amount of time.” She says. Aizen seems to pause for a moment, his head drooping a little.

“Has it really been that long?” He asks quietly.

“Don’t tell me you forgot my birthday, Aniki. It’s only two days after your own. But yes, I turned a hundred and sixty this year.” Sakura’s smile is wry.

“But, I imagine our time for catching up is drawing to a close, isn’t it?” She asks, nodding to the cracks starting to form in Aizen’s mask-like face.

“Indeed.” He replies. Sakura heaves a deep sigh, shoulders loosening.

“Very well then.” She says, lifting her right arm towards her opponent so that she holds her zanpakuto at shoulder height, horizontal to the ground, with the blade pointing left and the pommel right.

“Sekai o Taberu, Ouroboros.”

Aizen doesn’t so much as flinch, but his eyes do narrow.

Sakura is holding a spear like weapon. The black metallic pole that makes up its body is about three feet long, with an orb of clear green stone on one end. The other is comprised of a strangely shaped head. Its like a thin, elongated teardrop, about a foot long and made of the same material as the staff, with a green tassel dangling just underneath the base of the bulb. It doesn’t have a blade, so to speak, but the point it comes to looks wickedly sharp.

“I was afraid she would be angry with me, after all this time. I haven’t used her much in the last hundred years, but I’m glad to see she still answers when I call.” Sakura smiles fondly at the weapon, giving it a lazy spin as her gaze returns to her brother.

“I hope you’re ready, Aniki.” She says.

He doesn’t know exactly how it happens, but the strike from the green orb hits him in the side before he’s even aware that Sakura has moved. One corner of her mouth turns up in a wry smirk as he skids away, fist tightening around Kyoka Suigetsu.

“I’m disappointed, Aniki. You’re supposed to be better than this.” She sneers at him, and for one heart-stopping, gut-wrenching moment Sosuke is looking in a mirror. Those same thin brown eyes watch him as he straightens, his own narrowing at the blatant challenge.

“Watch how you speak to me, _Imouto_.” He snarls, charging her with his sword raised. Her head tilts mockingly as his blade passes right through her, her image dissolving in a heat haze as her voice rings out from behind him.

“You’re going to have to be faster than that if you want to catch me, _Big Brother_.” She sing-songs and Aizen knows that it’s a taunt, meant to lure him in and goad him into a fight, but he rises to the bait regardless.

He snarls wordlessly, an animal noise that combines with the whine of the Hogyoku as it responds to his will. He appears behind Sakura, his sword met with the shaft of her weapon, the clang of metal against metal ringing through the vast space around them.

“Are you going to take me seriously, now?” She asks, voice and expression once more neutral.

A sharp crack fills the air, chunks of the bone like material covering Aizen’s face sloughing away to reveal golden skin underneath.

“Yes, I believe I will.” He says, purple and silver eyes boring down into her own. Something in her chest tightens at the sight, but she manages a smile.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that. Otherwise this would have been boring.” She says. Their blades disengage as they separate, Sakura’s eyes sliding to the glowing barrier a few hundred yards away.

“Perhaps we should take this somewhere else.” She suggests.

“Why? Are you afraid of what they’ll think of you?” Aizen mocks. For a fraction of a second he thinks he see’s grief flit across her face, before it is replaced by acceptance.

“No. Those bridges have already been burned.” She says sadly. He frowns.

“Why go with those failures in the first place?” He asks. She blinks, then casts her eyes skyward, as if thinking.

“I guess, if I’m being honest, it was because I wanted to. I didn’t want to leave them alone. And…I felt guilty, a little bit, that my own flesh and blood had done something so abhorrent. That they were going to be hunted because of your actions.” She replies. His frown deepens and he opens his mouth to respond, but the blade erupting from the middle of his chest silences him.

They both stare at the sword point for a moment, shocked, before Sakura heaves an exaggerated sigh.

“You always had the absolute worst timing, Ichimaru.” She says tersely.

“Ah, sorry about that, Captain.” Gin sing-songs, landing beside her with a little thump. She frowns up at him.

“I’m not your captain, and isn’t stabbing him through the chest pointless at this point?” She asks offhandedly.

“Aren’t you a little blasé for someone who’s supposed to be defeating a ‘god’?” Gin fires back.

Aizen watches the exchange with a frown.

“I didn’t expect you to grow up into a mouthy brat, Sakura. But then again, you have been hanging around Hirako for a hundred years.” He says. The two across from him turn their attention back to him, away from their argument, to where his chest wound is closing up.

“You were distracted, which I didn’t expect. I thought I’d have to employ some underhanded tactic to get you to lower your guard enough for me to strike you, but Sakura-chan did a wonderful job as a diversion.” Gin never stops smiling.

“Don’t call me that.” She hisses at him, baring her teeth. His grin widens.

“I could always call you Captain-chan, if you like?” He says glibly. Sakura glares at him for a moment before letting out a huff.

“Fine, do whatever you want.” She snaps. Aizen’s eyes narrow as he glares at them both.

“I always knew. It’s why I kept you close, just as Hirako did to me, to see how you would try and take my life. But I’m disappointed, Gin. I hope you don’t think you can kill me this easily.” He says.

“I don’t.” Gin says, holding up Kamishini no Yari to show them both the sword. Both sibling’s eyes narrow at the tiny notch in the center of the blade and Gin’s smile stretches impossibly wide.

“I’m sorry. I lied to you when I explained my bankai’s abilities. It doesn’t stretch as long or as fast as I said. But it does turn into dust for an instant the moment it expands and contracts. And inside the blade is a deadly poison that breaks down cells.” He explains. Aizen’s eyes widen, head lifting in a tiny jerk of realization.

“You understand, right? Just now, when I contracted my sword after piercing your chest I left a fragment of it in your heart.” Gin continues. Sakura stiffens at his side, the hand holding her zanpakuto tightening until her knuckles are white.

“Should I give you a second to say something to your sister? Then again, even if you do you’re gonna die anyway.” He says.

“Kill, Kamishini no Yari.”

Sakura watches in fascinated horror as her brother’s chest is blown open, one arm separating at the shoulder. The Hogyoku is suspended in empty space for a single moment, dangling there of its own volition, before Gin’s hand closes around it, pulling it away from Aizen’s slowly crumpling body.

But that second is all it takes for her to feel the surge of power from within the sphere, mirrored by her brother’s body.

“Gin, drop it now!” She shouts, lunging towards him.

The roar that explodes from Aizen’s mouth is deafening, an animal noise of rage that echoes eerily all around them. His body twitches, writhing, before he's shrouded in a wave of pure reiatsu.

The thing that appears before them is even less like the man they had seen fall mere seconds before, with white wings that stretch out from his back like a mantle.

“The Hogyoku belongs to me.” Aizen says, right before he strikes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The command to unleash Sakura's shikai, "Sekai o Taberu", translates as "Eat the World". 
> 
> An Ouroboros is an ancient symbol depicting a snake (or less commonly a dragon) eating its own tail. It is often found as an alchemical or magical symbol, but dates back to ancient Egypt. It is often taken to symbolize introspection, the eternal return or cyclicality, especially in the sense of something constantly re-creating itself. It also represents the infinite cycle of nature's endless creation and destruction, life and death. (thank you Wikipedia).
> 
> Aizen Sosuke's birthday is May 29th (according to the Bleach wiki). Sakura's is May 31st. They're both Gemini.


	10. Phantom Threads

* * *

 …Before…

* * *

Sakura is crying.

“Aniki!” He remembers, vividly, the tears in her eyes as she had cried out for him, so small and delicate and fragile, held too tightly in those huge arms.

No matter how far he stretches his arm, his fingers never reach her outstretched hand. No matter how fast he runs, he never catches up to them. No matter what he does, they still take her. He often wakes drenched in cold sweat, her sobs rattling around inside his skull, a haunting anthem to his nightmares.

He remembers coming back from the market to the tiny shack they called home and hearing unfamiliar voices.

He remembers the monk who had looked down at him as one would look down on an insect.

He remembers the smaller man with the sunglasses and the cheesy smile.

He remembers when they took his precious little sister away.

He remembers.

“Aniki!”

* * *

 …After…

* * *

“Evolution requires fear. The fear that one will perish if one remains stagnant. Thanks to you, I’ve finally become a being that transcends both Shinigami and Hollows.” Aizen says.

Sakura is panting, her left arm bleeding heavily from where she’d used it to shield Gin. He’s also bleeding, though his wounds are relatively minor.

“You okay, Sakura-chan?” He asks quietly from under her arm. Her unamused laugh makes him start.

“Yeah. I’m fine, actually.” She pushes herself to her feet, cracking the wrist on her left arm, apparently to test its flexibility.

“You should head back to the others, though. I have no idea how much control I’m going to have over Ouroboros, so this battle is probably going to get real ugly real quick. Especially if Aniki keeps ‘evolving’ like this.” She continues conversationally. Gin observes her for a moment before huffing a laugh.

“I have no idea if that’s confidence or arrogance speaking.” He says, standing. She shrugs, turning away from him.

“Who knows? Now get going, brat.” She says over her shoulder.

“You’re not even that much older than me.” He snips right before he shunpo’s away towards the glowing barrier behind them.

“Sending away your only support? Is that wise?” Aizen asks her as he notices Gin leaving.

“It’s been a very long time since I’ve used Ouroboros like this against an opponent. I’d probably end up killing him by mistake and feel bad about it afterwards. I only have one target, at the moment.” She says. Aizen’s eyes narrow.

“I don’t like your tone, Imouto.” He says.

“Why?” She asks cheekily.

“Because it sounds like you think you can defeat me.” He snarls. Her smile turns thin, brittle.

“I don’t think, Aniki. I _know_.” She says, lifting her zanpakuto to point it at her brother.

“This will all be over soon.” She says. Aizen’s expression darkens.

“Those are the words of someone with power enough to stop me. Don’t look down on me, _little sister_. You’re a hundred years too early to be challenging me!” He roars, wings spreading as he attacks.

She meets him head on, fearless, blocking the downward stroke of his sword before twirling her zanapkuto, catching one of his wings with the point and opening a long tear in the snow white flesh.

He jumps back, gaining some distance, but she pulls back her right arm, hefting her weapon like a javelin. The throw is much faster than he anticipated, but it still sails past him as he dodges to the side.

“Too slow, Imouto.” He taunts her. She smiles benignly at him, the fingers of her left hand twitching slightly. Instinct makes him leap aside as her strange weapon does an abrupt about face, heading for his unprotected back. He lands some distance away, watching as she tugs on apparently empty air with her free hand, her zanpakuto soaring back to her.

They stand for a second in complete silence, simply watching each other, before they come together again.

She throws her weapon again and he moves to step aside, but just as it reaches him she appears before him, hand closing around the staff. He isn’t fast enough to avoid her strike and she opens up another ragged gash, this one across his chest.

“You’ll never win like that.” He snaps, the skin closing over as he leaps away to put some distance between them. She remains in place, watching him with narrowed, expectant eyes, and he only has a fraction of a second to wonder about her expression before he feels something wet and warm slicking down his back.

He freezes, abruptly arresting his own backwards momentum, and glances over his shoulder. All he sees is empty air, but there are hair thin wounds criss-crossing the skin of his back, from shoulders to ankles. He watches the blood run and blinks in confusion.

“Yurei Ito, Phantom Thread. They’re thinner than a hair and sharper than any blade. They’re also coated in a special anesthetic which makes the wounds they inflict almost painless. I’ve been weaving them all around us for a while now.” Sakura explains calmly. Aizen’s eyes snap to her.

“Since when?” He asks.

“Since we started.” She replies.

Aizen grits his teeth, casting around, but he still can’t see the threads.

“Don’t bother looking for them. As you are now, you’ll never see them.” Sakura states.

“As I am now?” Aizen asks, tone dark. Her head tilts a little, thoughtful.

“Have you forgotten so easily? The reason I was taken as a child to join the Royal Guard was because of my _potential_. I am the youngest person to ever be accepted into their ranks. I was raised by the other members, titans in their own right. And it’s not like I was idle while I lived in the Human World. I may not have had full access to my reiryoku, but I made sure to not let myself go soft. It is you, I’m afraid, who are a hundred years too early to be challenging me, Aniki.” She raises her weapon, eyes narrowing.

“I really don’t want to kill you, but I know you’ll never surrender quietly. I hope you can dodge this.” She says, before launching herself at him. Aizen is forced to block the strike, since he can’t move around as freely as before.

They continue to exchange blow after blow, the din of their weapons clashing echoing across broken, empty streets.

Standing on a nearby building, Urahara watches and waits.

* * *

Sakura stares dispassionately down at the crumpled form of her brother, bleeding heavily even as his wounds sluggishly close. He’s panting for breath as he lifts his head to glare at her.

“It’s not possible.” He snarls. Sakura shrugs one shoulder.

“It is what it is.” She says sadly.

“No.” He snaps.

“No no no no no no NO! It’s impossible! Impossible!” He’s shouting, his rage and desperation spurring him on as he claws at the dirt with his free hand, the other, welded to his zanpakuto, using the sword as leverage to push himself to his feet.

“It’s not possible!” He roars. The marking on his forehead pulses, right before cracking wide open, revealing a third purple and silver eye. The pupil shrinks and expands before the eye starts rolling up. Then, slowly, it begins to spin, gaining speed until it’s little more than a silver blur in Aizen’s forehead.

Sakura blinks, unsure of this new development, but she sucks in her breath when her brother’s face literally cracks down the middle. As the skin peels away she feels horror and dread and sadness settle into the pit of her stomach like a stone.

There is no turning back now.

The creature that kneels on the ground is Hollow-like, with three holes in it’s abdomen, four tails, and six ‘wings’, each with its own eye in the center and a mouth at the tip. Its body is white while the ends of it’s limbs and face are black, the skin it had been wearing a second ago pooled on either side of its head, similar to how a snake sheds its skin.

“I see.” It’s Aizen’s voice, still, coming from a mouth lined with animal-like teeth. He raises a clawed hand to his chest, where he briefly touches the sphere suspended where his heart should be.

“You cannot allow it, can you, Hogyoku? You cannot forgive the idea of my little sister getting the better of me.” One of the mouths at the end of a wing opens, energy forming in a ball between its teeth. Sakura’s eyes widen.

The resultant explosion levels a good portion of the fake Karakura town, the boom echoing for far longer than seems possible. Aizen tilts his head, watching as the dust settles and the scene below becomes clearer. Within the epicenter of destruction appears a black, cocoon like object. The thing shifts, warping to show that it’s actually a piece of fabric, frayed heavily at the edges, which Sakura pulls away from where she’s wrapped it around her own shoulders.

“Ah, I get it now. You used your Phantom Threads to protect yourself.” Aizen observes, noticing that Sakura’s face is neutrally blank.

“You seem unconcerned, which is quite vexing. However, to be fair, I expected that blast to do a lot more damage than it did. It did seem to get rid of the barrier of threads you put up, though. Where _are_ you getting them?” Aizen continues.

“Can’t you tell?” Sakura asks, holding up her zanpakuto, the black metal gleaming dully.

“Ouroboros’ shape, it’s a weaver’s bobbin.” She explains. Aizen hums.

“That’s an interesting ability you have there, Imouto.” He says.

“Naturally. We are siblings, after all.” She says, smiling benignly.

A beat of silence passes between them, where they simply watch each other across the battlefield.

“This is the end, isn’t it?” He asks.

“Probably.” Is her reply.

“Shall we make it good, then?” He asks.

“Yes, let’s.” Her smile is sad.

His wings lift, each of the mouth’s opening wide, a ball of condensed energy forming within their maws.

Across from him, Sakura set’s her zanpakuto point down in the dirt, right hand clasped over the green orb at the opposite end. It begins to glow, reiatsu gathering in the stone sphere. At the other end, the tassel lights up as well, the threads lifting and undulating through the air as if touched by an imaginary wind.

Another moment, another breath, and the two siblings clash.

A hundred yards away Urahara crouches against the ground, the point of his sword stuck deep in the dirt to keep him anchored as the shockwave nearly sweeps him off his feet.

Within the barrier there are fearful murmurs and some cries of alarm as the ground rumbles and shakes, the wave of reiatsu that washes over them all nearly crippling in its intensity.

Shinji closes his eyes and prays, for what he’s not sure, but he still prays.

Silence reigns after, the only sounds that of falling dust and debris, the cracking of stone, the groan of boulders and broken buildings as they settle.

Sakura stands over the body of her brother, once more humanoid in shape. He’s laid out on his back, staring up at the sky. One eye remains purple and silver, but the other has returned to the brown she’s so familiar with.

“I’m…numb…what was it…that you did…just now?” He asks softly.

“Yudokuna Ito, Toxic Thread. It's a poison that damages nerves and interferes with motor function. In large enough doses it can interrupt cell production and shut down organs. All it takes is a single touch, which happened when I redirected the blast.” She answers simply. He blinks up at her slowly, one hand coming to lay over his chest.

“So this…is as far…as it can take me…is it? The Hogyoku?” He asks. She simply looks down at him with sad eyes.

“I don’t know about the Hogyoku, but…it was your plan all along, wasn’t it, Aniki?” She asks.

“What was?” He sounds incredibly tired.

“To lose to me, like this.” She says. He hums thoughtfully, eyes sliding from her to the sky and back again.

“Were you happy?” His question catches her off guard.

“When?” She asks, thinking about when they were children in the Rukongai. She had been happy then, no matter how brief their time together had been.

“With the Soul King.” He answers and she frowns.

“No.” She says honestly. He frowns, too.

“What about before?” He asks.

“When we were children?” She clarifies. He nods.

“Of course.” Her smile is soft, and he blinks.

“Oh. I’m glad.” He says with a smile of his own.

They are interrupted, however, as Aizen’s body jerks, a spear of light appearing in his chest, then another, and another. Sakura stiffens, before realizing what must be happening.

“I assume this is your doing, Urahara?” She asks the empty air. The shop-keeper appears before them, looking grim.

“Yes.” He says simply, glancing down at where Aizen is staring up at him.

“When did you…?” He trails off, his face turning thoughtful.

“At the very beginning, when you fired through my shoulder, correct?” He answers his own question. Urahara nods.

“I knew that, if you fused with the Hogyoku, then it would be almost impossible to kill you. So, this is my solution, a new kido I developed specifically to seal you and the Hogyoku away.” He explains.

Aizen huffs a soft laugh.

“I see.” He turns his mismatched eyes on Sakura, expression sad.

“It would seem that I am leaving you again. I’m sorry, Imouto.” He says.

“I’m sorry, too, Aniki.” She says.

The seal quickly swallows Aizen Sosuke’s body, the white star-shaped cross gleaming in the sun. With a grimace, Sakura turns away, but a hand on her shoulder draws her up short.

“You did well.” Urahara tells her. She frowns at him.

“I don’t want you telling me that.” She says tersely. Something flickers through his eyes as he lets her go, stepping back.

With a dull thud, Ichigo lands a few feet away, staring up at the cross.

“So…it’s over?” He asks quietly.

“Yes, it’s over.” Urahara says. Sakura remains silent.

Ichigo is quiet for a moment but starts, along with the other two, as a tear appears in the air behind them.

“Reinforcements from Hueco Mundo?” Sakura asks Urahara, hand tightening around the staff of her zanpakuto.

“I don’t know.” He says, drawing his own sword. Ichigo moves to stand beside them, ready to fight, but instead they watch in surprise as Inoue Orihime emerges from the Garganta, followed closely by a red haired shinigami with facial tattoos and a slim man wearing glasses and a Quincy uniform. There are two others, as well, a short female shinigami and a very tall, dark skinned man with curly black hair.

“Oh, you all made it.” Ichigo says, dropping his sword almost immediately. Urahara follows suite, but Sakura is slower to do so, watching the auburn haired girl burst into tears at the sight of Kurosaki.

After a few moments of letting them all chat among themselves, she speaks up.

“I apologize, but, Inoue-san, could I borrow you for a little while?” She asks the girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't anticipating this arc taking so long, but it's almost over! Also, I didn't kill off Gin because I need him, okay. He's necessary to the plot. Tosen is still dead, though, because fuck that guy. 
> 
> Yurei Ito = Phantom Threads  
> Yudokuna Ito = Toxic Threads
> 
> A weaver's or tapestry bobbin is usually made of wood and is used to hold threads and yarn similarly to a spindle. 
> 
> Sakura's Ouroboros is similar in shape to these, just on a much larger scale: 
> 
> https://www.etsy.com/listing/273227854/tapestry-bobbins-wood-bobbins-weaving?gpla=1&gao=1&&utm_source=google&utm_medium=cpc&utm_campaign=shopping_us_b-craft_supplies_and_tools-fabric_and_notions-notions-bobbins&utm_custom1=4e655423-2c67-4827-a126-13c3a5656ad0&gclid=EAIaIQobChMI8uCNh_Ww2gIV2IKzCh1-bgo4EAQYAiABEgIjN_D_BwE
> 
> and
> 
> https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/101632361/tapestry-weaving-bobbins-aubusson-style
> 
> and
> 
> https://halcyonyarn.com/weaving/6380070R/75--rosewood-tapestry-bobbin?gclid=EAIaIQobChMIsqzX_rWs2gIVF57ACh2zEgDWEAQYBSABEgKcM_D_BwE


	11. Rend Asunder, as the Heart

Shinji feels the distortion in the air before he sees it, Sakura appearing beside Hiyori’s sickbed with a bundle of white in her arms. Said bundle unfolds to reveal Inoue Orihime, who blinks a little dazedly as Sakura sets her on her feet before nodding down at the tiny blonde being attended to by the 4th’s lieutenant.

As Orihime falls to her knees beside Hiyori, calling out her fairies, Sakura turns to Shinji.

He doesn’t speak as she approaches, doesn’t so much as blink as she comes to a stop in front of him. He just stares up at her, looking for all the things he’d missed before, and so help him the more he looks the more he’s starting to see the family resemblance.

The most obvious thing is the eyes, the color and the shape, but while Sakura’s slant just like her brother’s, they’re warmer, more open. Her hair, too, is the same shade as Sosuke’s, but it doesn’t curl. That might have something to do with how short it is and Shinji has to wonder if she cut it deliberately. Then, he recalls all the times he’s commented on the sharpness of her mind, her knack for predicting their enemies movements, the times he’d _literally praised her for thinking exactly like Aizen_.

She doesn’t speak, just watches him, and he realizes she’s waiting on him to say something. He remembers her words before she’d left with Urahara, her plea for him to hear her out, but…

The wound is too fresh, the betrayal too new, and he turns his head away.

“Thank you, for bringing Orihime-chan…but you should go.” He says. He misses the flicker of agony that flashes across her face, the tightening in her jaw, and the way her eyes slide closed, accepting.

“Okay.” She takes a step back and bends at the waist into a deep, proper bow.

“Thank you, for everything.” She says and Shinji tries to ignore the waver in her voice, the one he _knows_ means she’s fighting back tears.

She straightens and turns away, then, and every step she takes makes his heart break a little more.

He wonders, vaguely, how it all came to this.

* * *

 …Before…

* * *

A spoon appears in front of his eyes and he blinks at it, following the handle and the arm holding the utensil up to see Sakura’s expectant face. Obligingly, Kensei opens his mouth and lets her feed him whatever it is. He chews thoughtfully, her eager expression never wavering. He blinks as he swallows, a flash of confusion going through him.

“This doesn’t taste like your usual cinnamon roll filling.” He comments. Sakura’s smile is a soft, easy thing that makes warmth curl in his belly.

“Can you tell what I added?” She asks, the hint of a challenge in her tone. His eyes narrow as he runs his tongue along his teeth, thinking.

“Is that…orange?” He finally asks. She beams at him.

“Got it in one. What do you think? I thought it would be good for Fall.” She says. His smile is indulgent.

“I think you might be on to something, Babe.”

* * *

 …Before…

* * *

“Mashiro-chan, look at this.” Sakura has a magazine open in her lap, turned to a page where a tall, skinny woman is pouting into the camera. When Mashiro turns quizzically to look at her, Sakura points to the orange scarf and matching boots the model is wearing.

“What if you did something like this, but over that jumpsuit you liked?” She asks, shuffling through the pile of fashion magazines they have stacked between them to find the dog-eared volume of Teen-Vogue that had started this whole mess.

The green haired girl stares intently down at the glossy pages spread out before her, one showing a female k-pop group, all of them wearing matching jumpsuits in coordinating colors, and the other the skinny model in the scarf and boots Sakura had pointed out.

“That’s… _amazing_ , Sakura-chan! This is perfect!” She crows, snatching both magazines and jumping up excitedly.

“Now I just have to make Lisa take me shopping.” She says with a wicked grin, turning and dashing off to find the bespectacled woman.

Sakura smiles after her and starts to shuffle the stack of magazines together into a more cohesive pile.

“I feel like you’ve created a monster.” Shinji says casually from his place lounging on a nearby rock. Sakura shrugs.

“That would imply that she wasn’t a monster to begin with.” She says cheerfully.

“Touché.” Says the blonde.

* * *

 …Before…

* * *

“What part of ‘I can no longer buy alcohol’ do you not get?” Sakura asks Lisa in annoyance.

“All of it.” Comes the bland reply. Sakura throws her hands up in exasperation, before gesturing back down to herself.

“Urahara is good at the whole fake ID thing, but he can’t do anything about the way I look. Making me 20 in this last batch was stretching it and you know it.” She says.

“Then change that.” Lisa says, waving a hand vaguely through the air.

“Did you just gesture to all of me?” One of Sakura’s eyes starts to twitch in an eerily similar fashion to Kensei when he’s angry.

“Yes.” Lisa says, deadpan.

“Fuck you, Lisa, I’m not buying your porn for you.” Sakura snaps angrily.

“They don’t think I’m 21 either.” She points out.

“That’s because you insist on wearing a _middle-school uniform_!” Sakura nearly yells.

“It fits my aesthetic.”

“Argh!”

* * *

 …Before…

* * *

“Here.” Love looks up when something taps him on the shoulder, pulling off his earphones with a frown. He takes the offered package, wrapped in plain brown paper, from Sakura.

“What is it?” He asks, tone dubious. Her eyes veritably sparkle as she smiles down at him.

“You’re going to have to open it to find out, aren’t you?” She says sweetly, before turning away to start passing out food. Frowning, Love starts pulling at the strings holding the paper in place, unfolding it from where it’s wrapped around…

He nearly chokes, staring down at the stylized image of Speed Racer on the cover of the thick magazine sitting innocently in his lap.

“Is this…?” He jerks his head up to stare at Sakura, who is grinning at him.

“The very first issue of _Weekly Shonen Jump_ , published in 1968. It’s a mint copy, too. I had to argue with the guy at the book shop for twenty minutes to get him to sell it to me.” She answers.

Love looks from her, to the magazine, then back to Sakura, then carefully, reverently, sets the book aside, placing it on its brown paper wrapping to keep it out of the dirt. He stands, crosses to Sakura, and envelops her in a tight hug.

“Thanks.” He gruffs into her hair. She squeezes him back, smiling up at him.

“Happy Birthday, Love.” She says.

* * *

…Before…

* * *

“What is that?” Sakura asks, squinting at Shinji as if that will make the image before her change. The blonde grins widely, doing a little spin.

“It’s a newsy cap. Isn’t is great?” He asks excitedly. Sakura frowns at him, cocking her head to the side.

“Maybe, if your hair was shorter.” She muses.

“Eh? My hair is fine.” Shinji says defensively, both hands coming up as if to shield his head. Sakura rolls her eyes, pointing her ladle at the blonde imperiously.

“You haven’t cut your hair in forty years, Shinji. It’s too long for…whatever that is.” She says, waving the utensil around like a wand.

“It’s a newsy cap.” He repeats tersely.

“Whatever. Get a haircut. And don’t pout, you’re too old for that.” She responds, ignoring Kensei who is snickering beside her. Shinji’s petulant expression intensifies, turning quickly into a scowl.

“Fine.” He says, doing a remarkable impression of a five year-old.

“I saw Rose a little bit ago, ask him to do it.” Sakura says dismissively, turning back to the pot of chili she’s making, sticking the ladle back in and giving it a stir.

“No way! I am never letting that _barbarian_ anywhere near my hair again! You saw what he did last time!” Shinji shrills, hunching his shoulders and throwing up his hands as if to ward off any unwanted scissors.

“Yes, I am aware. You bitched about it for a full decade, if I recall correctly.” Sakura deadpans, not looking up from the pot.

“You remember correctly.” Kensei cuts in from beside her.

“You stay out of this, Muguruma!” Shinji snaps.

* * *

…Before…

* * *

Sakura peers down at Kensei’s face, scrutinizing the little silver hoop in his left eyebrow that matches the set in his ear. He allows her her observation, patiently letting her turn his face this way and that with the hand she has on his chin. Finally, she steps back, her hands dropping from his face.

“I kinda like it.” She admits quietly. His resulting grin is electric, but falters slightly when she smirks wickedly at him, one eyebrow hiking up.

“Never knew you and Shinji shared body mod preferences.” She teases, earning herself a scowl.

* * *

…Before…

* * *

Sakura’s brow furrows, sweat beading heavily on her forehead. Her eyes are closed as she keeps her hands up in front of her face, held a few inches apart, palms facing each other.

The tiny, flickering ball of light held between her hands dims briefly before brightening again. After a few more moments, the light flickers out and she lets out a breath, sagging.

“You did much better than last time, Sakura-chan.” Hachi praises her, smiling kindly. She returns the smile, though hers is much weaker.

“Thanks, Hachi. I’ll just have to keep practicing.” She says.

“Practice does make perfect.” Hachi agrees. Sakura’s smile turns into a smirk.

“Yeah, maybe one day I’ll even be as good as you.” She teases. The pink haired man huffs a laugh, patting her patiently on the shoulder.

“Perhaps, Sakura-chan.”

* * *

…Before…

* * *

This is the second leak they’ve found in the warehouse roof. Unlike the last one, however, where they just stuck a bucket under it and called it a day, this one is right over Rose’s ‘room’ and is putting all of his precious instruments in jeopardy.

Sakura is in the process of carting a tuba down into the underground training field while the others are up tarping the roof.

“Ah, be careful.” Rose says worriedly from where he’s standing next to the rest of his instruments, double checking that they’re all accounted for.

“I am.” Sakura replies, setting the huge hunk of brass tubing down next to the cello the blonde man is currently cradling.

“Right. Sorry, Sakura-chan, it’s just…” She pats him on the shoulder, cutting off his apology.

“I get it, Rose. It’s okay.” She says with a soft smile.

His answering smile is thin, but he manages a nod as he goes back to fussing over his instruments.

Later, after the others have trooped back inside, soaking wet and complaining profusely, Sakura finds a few sheets of folded sheet music tucked into the front pocket of one of her flannel shirts. The simple song is titled “Cherry Blossoms” and Sakura laughs when Rose offers to play it for her and she requests that he perform it on the tuba.

* * *

…Before…

* * *

“Hey, Hiyori-chan, how are you holding up?” Sakura asks from the doorway of the lieutenant’s quarters.

“I’m fine. Jeez, everyone needs to stop asking me that, already.” The tiny blonde snaps, turning the corner and fixing the taller girl with a harsh glare. Sakura doesn’t bat an eyelash at the harsh reception, simply holds up the package she’s carrying with a disarming smile.

“I brought daifuku.” She says breezily. Across the room Hiyori stiffens, the tips of her ears turning pink.

“Well, I guess I could make tea.” She grumbles, turning sharply on her heel and stomping to her tiny kitchen.

Sakura’s smile widens as she enters the room, toeing off her sandals at the door.

“It’s good to see you, Hiyori-chan.” She says.

“Yeah, yeah. I hope you brought some Purin.” Hiyori snaps from the stove.

“Of course.” Sakura replies, her smile never wavering.

It’s only after they’re seated and eating the sweets that Hiyori glances at her, face crumpling just a little around the edges.

“Thanks, Sakura-chan.” She mumbles into her confection, eyes downcast. Sakura’s smile turns soft, kind.

“We’ve known each other since the academy, Hiyori-chan. It’s no trouble, not for a friend.”

* * *

…Before…

* * *

“My name is Hagasu Sakura. It’s nice to meet you.” She bows at the waist, eyes on the floor. Her new captain lets out a huff and stands from his desk with a clatter.

“The new 7th seat, right? Welcome to the 9th division. Has anyone showed you around, yet?” He asks. She straightens and shakes her head.

“No, sir.” She answers.

“Come on, then. I’ll introduce you to everyone and get you settled. The quicker we get that done the quicker I can get back to that.” He nods to his desk, where what looks like a rough draft for a magazine is laid out, covered in red pen-marks.

“That, sir?” She asks, peering over the desk to get a better look.

“The Seireitai Communication. The 9th publishes it, on top of being in charge of Security. Hurry up.” The silver haired man snaps, opening the door to the office for her.

“Right.” She jumps to follow him, having to jog to keep up with his much longer legs.

“You have any experience with that kinda thing?” Her new captain asks as they turn the corner.

“I edited the school newspaper when I was in the academy.” She offers. She nearly runs into his back when he stops abruptly, taking a hasty step back to put some space between them. He turns to stare down at her with narrowed eyes.

“Really?” He asks.

“All six years, sir.” She answers. He continues to eye her for a few more moments, then lets out a breath and starts walking again.

“Good. We’ll see how well you do. Maybe you can help me, seeing as all I ever get are incompetent idiots who can’t tell the difference between a semicolon and an em-dash.” He says.

“I will do my best, sir.” She says.

“Oi, enough of that. My name’s Muguruma. Muguruma Kensei. Get used to it, Hagasu.” He snaps, though there's no real bite to his words.

“Yes, Muguruma-taicho.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my heart. Why do I do these things?
> 
> Each "Before" is roughly in chronological order, going backwards through time. Except for the last two they happen over the hundred years the Visored lived in the human world. 
> 
> Daifuku is a Japanese confection consisting of mochi stuffed with sweet filling. Purin Daifuku has creme caramel filling instead of the traditional sweetened red bean paste.


	12. Unbound

“How are you feeling?” Unohana asks. Sakura, sitting up in bed, turns to look at the older woman with heavy lidded eyes.

“Still tired.” She admits with a yawn. Unohana nods.

“That’s understandable. Your body still isn’t used to your unsealed reiatsu levels. The medically induced coma you’ve been in for the past week helped, but you’ll be tired and weak for a few more days.” She explains kindly. Sakura’s smile is humorless.

“I’m grateful to you for all that you’ve done, but I was surprised I woke up at all, to be honest.” She admits. Unohana’s smile drops a little.

“This is the 4th division. I do not tolerate that kind of behavior.” She says icily. Sakura nods.

“I know, but I’m still Aizen Sosuke’s little sister. I image there are more than a few people who would be willing to murder me in my sleep for revenge, consequences be damned.” She says. Unohana’s eyes turn sad, before smoothing over into her usual smile.

“Perhaps, but as a member of the Zero Division, you are currently the highest authority residing in Soul Society. It would be negligent if we allowed anything to happen to you.” She points out.

“Perhaps.” Sakura says noncommittally. Sensing the drop in the other’s mood, Unohana changes the subject.

“This arrived for you while you were unconscious.” She says, placing a white garment box on the bed by Sakura’s hip. Curious, she pulls it into her lap and undoes the ties holding it closed, lifting the lid to reveal a white Captain’s haori.

Instead of a number, however, this one has four diamonds emblazoned on the back. There’s a folded note resting on top of the garment, which Sakura picks up and flips open. She snorts.

“Nimaiya, that idiot. Trust him to show up only when I can’t kick his ass.” She huffs, setting the note back down. She turns to Unohana.

“The Sotaicho wants to speak with me, doesn’t he?” She asks, sounding resigned. Unohana nods.

“As soon as you are able.” She says, sounding unhappy. Sakura sighs.

“Well, I have a few things I need to speak with him about, anyway. Might as well get it over with.” She says, climbing from the bed.

“I will have Isane bring you a shihakusho.” Unohana says, also standing.

“Yes, please.” Sakura says, and the other woman nods in acknowledgement. She’s almost to the door when Sakura’s voice draws her up short.

“One more thing, where is Ichimaru Gin?” She asks. Unohana turns to glance over her shoulder.

“Your orders were that he was not to be harmed, so he’s being held in the Senzaikyu, the Repentance Palace.” She explains. Sakura scrubs a hand down her face with a heavy sigh.

“Another things I’ll have to speak with the Sotaicho about. Man, what a pain.” She says, before turning fully to face Unohana.

“Thank you for everything, Unohana-taicho.” She says with a formal bow. Unohana nods back to her.

“I wish you the best of luck, Sakura-san.” She replies.

* * *

Hisagi nearly knocks the woman over. There’s an apology on his lips as he reaches out for one slim shoulder, meaning to steady the swaying figure, but then the head lifts and he meets soft brown eyes.

He freezes, jaw snapping shut, because the person he just tried to touch is Aizen Sosuke’s younger sister and, more importantly, a member of the Royal Guard. He jumps to attention, suddenly afraid that he’s caused her some offense, but she smiles gently at him, even if the edges seem a little strained.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” She says, offering him a little bow. He’s surprised, because as far as he can tell _he_ was the one who ran into _her_ , but he returns her polite bow with one of his own.

“No, I’m at fault, I should have been paying better attention.” He says. Her smile this time is a little more genuine, a little bit softer, and he can’t help but mirror it. He notices her eyes darting to the tattoo on his cheek, and something pained flashes through them before it disappears, hidden behind another smile.

“Are you the fukutaicho of the 6th?” She asks, indicating the badge tied around his arm.

“Oh, yes, I am. Hisagi Shuuhei, at your service.” He says, offering her a more formal bow. She grins at him, something easy and open in the tilt of her lips.

“Aizen Sakura. It’s nice to meet you, Hisagi-san.” She says politely. A moment passes in silence where Hisagi tries, desperately, not to fidget.

“Um, is there something I can do for you, uh, Taicho?” He asks, uncertain. She shakes her head.

“First of all, I’m not your Taicho. You may call me Sakura.” She offers with a little smile. He blinks, then glances quickly away, his ears turning pink in embarrassment.

“With all due respect, ma’am, I don’t know if I can do that.” He admits.

“Will you at least promise to try?” She asks. Now blushing to the roots of his hair, Hisagi nods. She practically beams at him, which isn’t helping his heart slow down at all.

“Secondly, to answer your question, I was just looking around. Before, I was a member of the 9th, so it’s kinda nostalgic.” She admits.

He frowns at her statement, confused.

“Before?” He asks.

“Before the Visored were forced to flee from the Soul Society.” She explains.

“Oh, you were under Muguruma-taicho.” He says excitedly. That flash of pain flickers across her face again and he pauses, uncertain.

“Taich…Sakura-san?” He asks. She shakes her head, forced smile firmly in place.

“It’s nothing. Are you busy? Would you be willing to show me around?” She asks him.

“Oh, of course.” He says, indicating that she should follow him.

“Thank you.” She says, smile easing a little and, as she falls into step beside him, Hisagi can’t help but wonder about this strange woman with her sad eyes and fragile smiles.

* * *

“I don’t believe you.” Hisagi says, pointing his chopsticks at the smirking woman seated across from him. She raises one hand while the other goes over her heart.

“Scout’s honor.” She says, fighting down laughter.

“I don’t even know what that means.” Hisagi bemoans. Sakura giggles at him, keeping her hand over her heart while she lowers the other one.

“I swear to you, on my life, that I’m not lying.” She promises him. He stares at her, eyes narrowed, before sitting back in his seat.

“Huh, I never would have pegged Muguruma-taicho to have that kind of taste.” He says, staring up at the ceiling.

They’re sitting in the almost empty cafeteria in the 9th division barracks, swapping stories over lunch. So far, Hisagi hasn’t believed a single one Sakura has told about Kensei.

“Kensei is Kensei, but to be fair, he went through his weird Country phase back in its heyday. Think Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, Hank Williams, and George Jones.” She explains. Hisagi turns disbelieving eyes on her.

“It still sounds unbelievable.” He says. Her grin widens.

“Yes, but it is fun to tease him about it.” At that her smile slips and her eyes fall to her plate, where she’s barely touched her meal.

“Sakura-san?” Hisagi sounds worried and she tries her best to smile for him.

“It’s okay. It’s just…” She trails off, poking her food around with her chopsticks.

“You miss them.” Hisagi says sympathetically. She nods, not looking at him.

“Yes, but they have every right to be angry.” She says quietly, voice broken, and it is in that instant that Hisagi realizes that there is a fundamental difference between Aizen Sakura and Aizen Sosuke. Unlike her brother, Sakura is capable of deep seated, genuine love. There is heartbreak and grief in her eyes, as if she’s lost family in the process of splitting from the Visored. And, he rationalizes, in a sense she has. But she didn’t cry for her brother the way she is for the eight former Shinigami she spent the last century in hiding with.

“Well, we know the message from the Sotaicho reached them because the messenger reported that he spoke with Hirako personally. I’m sure they’ll come back, eventually.” He says, trying for comforting. Sakura’s laugh is humorless and empty.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it took them another month to decide what to do. Any decision we ever made took a whole lot of arguing to come to any kind of agreement, especially if it was important. It…it just hurts, not being part of those debates anymore.” She admits quietly, one hand fisting in the fabric over the left side of her chest, where her heart is. Hisagi’s own eyes lower at the utter misery stamped so clearly across his companion’s face. Slowly, hesitantly, he reaches across the table to take her free hand, giving it a light squeeze.

“Everything will turn out, in the end.” He says softly. She squeezes her eyes shut, mouth pressing into a thin line, but she turns her palm up to face his, clasping his hand.

They stay like that for a few long minutes, until Sakura has composed herself. Gently, she slips her hand from his and he retracts his own, letting it curl in his lap, remembering the warmth of her palm and the way she trembled in her grief.

“Thank you, Hisagi-san.” Her smile is watery, but genuine. He smiles back, nodding to her.

“Of course.”

They fall back into light conversation, mostly about work, until Hisagi frowns, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully as something occurs to him.

“Where are you staying?” He asks her. She blinks at him, then blinks again.

“Huh, I didn’t think of that. I don’t know.” She admits.

“You don’t kn…where have you been sleeping for the past week?” He asks, incredulous. One of her eyebrows ticks up.

“At the 4th, in a medically induced coma.” She says. He stares at her, brows furrowed.

“Are you even supposed to be up? Wait, _does Unohana know you’re out of the 4th_?” He asks, utterly horrified at the thought that he’s harboring a patient from the 4th division Captain. Sakura laughs at him.

“Unohana-taicho discharged me this morning. I had a meeting with the Sotaicho after, then decided to wander around for a while. I ran into you and you know the rest.” She shrugs. He frowns at her, considering, then straightens as he comes to a decision.

“We have some rooms free in the 9th, if you have nowhere else to stay.” He offers. She blinks owlishly at him, head tilting a little.

“Are you sure, Hisagi-san?” She finally asks him, cautiously. At his confused look, she gestures to herself.

“Have you forgotten who I am?” She asks him. At that, he stiffens in his seat.

“No, I haven’t.” He admits.

But, he thinks privately, he would never have thought that any relative of Aizen Sosuke would be this _human_. Sakura is unlike anything he imagined, warm and open and heartbroken and brittle around the edges. She reminds him, maybe too much, of Kira and Momo and himself, right after their Captain’s defection.

She regards him for a long moment before her lips curl up in a smirk.

“So long as you don’t mind me helping out around the division.” She offers.

“Oh, you don’t have to.” He interjects. Her smile turns indulgent.

“Mashiro-chan is not known for her attention span, Hisagi-san. I was doing the Lieutenant’s paperwork barely a week after joining the 9th. If you need any help with the Seireitai Communication, I can help with that, too.” She says.

He blinks at her. Then, realizing that he’s not going to win this argument, he sighs and nods.

“Thank you, Sakura-san.” He says, with as deep of a bow as he can manage over the table.

“It’s no trouble, Hisagi-san.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Hisagi and Sakura are cute as friends. They're both broken and hurting, and they've really found a kindred spirit in each other.


	13. Broken Pieces

Hisagi frowns, because this is the fifth day that Sakura has been staying at the 9th, and it is also the fifth day he has passed her room in the early hours of the morning on his way back from the bathroom to see a light still on.

Unlike before, however, he knocks on the door, curiosity getting the better of him.

“What can I do for you, Hisagi-kun?” Sakura asks when she opens her door, looking up at him expectantly. He frowns, brow wrinkling with concern.

“Are you all right, Sakura-san? You’re still in the office when I leave and you’re there before I am. Are you sleeping okay?” He blurts at her. She blinks at him, obviously surprised by his outburst, but steps aside in obvious invitation.

He hesitates for a moments before entering her room, closing the door behind him.

“Come and sit.” She says, indicating the low table in the center of the room. A rough draft of next month’s Seireitai Communication is laid open across its surface, accompanied by several red pens and a pot of tea. He notices the complete lack of any kind of bedding or pillows, and a lightning quick check of the closet confirms that the futon has remained untouched since she arrived, still in its original wrappings.

Sakura fetches him a cup from the cupboard and pours tea for him, pushing it across the table as she sits opposite of him.

“What do you see, Hisagi-kun, when you look at me?” She asks. He nearly chokes on his tea, not having expected the question.

“Pardon, Taicho?” He asks, flustered. She hands him a napkin to wipe his face.

“I’m not your Taicho. And I asked you what you saw when you look at me?” She repeats. He sets his cup down, regarding her from across the table.

“Well…I guess, I see a hard worker? And you’re always helping me out around the division, so I suppose you’re the type of person who likes to be useful. You’re smart and kind and considerate…” He trails off as a soft smile spreads across her face.

“Thank you for that, Hisagi-kun, but no one else in the Soul Society sees me like you do. They see Aizen Sosuke’s little sister, a potential threat.” She says. He stiffens in his seat, dread creeping up the back of his throat as he realizes the truth of her words. Her smile falls.

“I haven’t been sleeping because I don’t feel like I can. While in Unohana’s care I was relatively safe, but now…” Here, she gestures around them.

“I have none of the safety and security that I did before, no one to watch my back while I’m vulnerable. I’ve been making do with the occasional quick nap, which has worked so far, but as I’m sure you know it won’t for much longer. I’m sure you’ve been noticing my eating habits, as well.” She points out, smiling as his ears turn pink.

“I, uh, didn’t want to say anything. A lot of women don’t, uh, eat much for their own, um, reasons.” He stammers, looking anywhere but at her.

“I’m not skipping meals because I’m not hungry, Hisagi-kun.” She tells him, and those words are enough to make the ice creeping into his gut flood the entirety of his insides. He turns wide eyes on her, understanding making his jaw clench.

“Sakura-san, I…” She holds up a hand to stop him.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Hisagi-kun, really I do. You’re a good person, but if someone like another Captain where to come and try to kill me, I wouldn’t want you to get caught up in the crossfire trying to defend me.” She says, smile soft. Tea completely forgotten, Hisagi feels his heart break a little.

“Still…” He trails off, eyes falling to the worn wood of the table.

“My brother has been sentenced and imprisoned, far beyond the reach of those who wish revenge upon him. I am simply the next best available target.” Sakura says. Hisagi’s teeth clench.

“That’s no excuse!” He suddenly shouts, fist banging onto the tabletop hard enough to rattle the piece of furniture. It is Sakura’s turn to stare at him with wide eyes as he pants for breath, suddenly winded.

“That kind of behavior, there’s nothing to excuse it! You’re a good person, Sakura-san, you don’t deserve this!” He says angrily. Gently, Sakura reaches across the table to place one of her hands on his shoulder. He takes a deep, shuddering breath as he tries to calm himself.

“I apologize. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.” He says, bowing over the table.

“It’s all right, Hisagi-kun. It’s kind of comforting, actually, knowing someone else is angry about it.” He glances up to see a small, sad smile on her face.

“You don’t need to worry about me.”

For some reason, he feels like that statement alone is reason enough to worry about her.

* * *

On the seventh day Hisagi gets a surprise visit from the Captain of the 2nd division.

“What can I do for you, Soi-Fon-Taicho?” He asks politely, surprised to see the much smaller woman. He can’t think of a single time where she’s personally visited the 9th, which sets off alarm bells in the back of his head.

“Nothing.” She says dismissively, but the way her eyes dart around the office tells him otherwise. They are both startled by the door sliding open, Sakura walking into the room with a bag in one hand.

“Hisagi-kun, I brought lunch.” She looks up and catches sight of Soi-Fon, but doesn’t break stride.

“Oh, good afternoon.” She greets, giving the Captain a little nod. Soi-Fon’s eyes narrow and then, slowly, she returns the gesture.

“Were you here on business?” Sakura asks, moving towards the Lieutenant’s desk, where she sets down the bag.

“No.” Soi-Fon says. A moment passes in which it becomes apparent that she’s not going to say anything else, so Sakura shrugs and turns to Hisagi.

“I’m sorry my nap took so long. I hope you like Yakitori.” She says, starting to unpack the takeout containers she’d brought. A surprised noise makes both her and Hisagi turn to Soi-Fon.

“Is something the matter?” Sakura asks mildly. Apparently startled by being the sudden center of attention, Soi-Fon blinks.

“Oh, no, of course not. It’s just…I didn’t think you slept.” She mumbles the last part, looking away. The comment passes over Hisagi’s head for a moment but he immediately notices when, at his side, Sakura goes still. Her eyes slide back towards the 2nd division Captain, calculating.

“I find it difficult to sleep when I don’t feel safe, Soi-Fon-Taicho. I’m sure you understand.” Her smile is oddly cold, something that belongs more on someone like Ichimaru Gin, but it’s in that instant that Soi-Fon’s comment catches up to Hisagi.

He, too, stills, spine straightening as he turns wide, shocked eyes on the Stealth Force’s Commander. She’s glancing between the both of them, something hard in her gaze.

“Well, I’ll leave you be, then.” She says, turning sharply on her heel and heading for the door.

Before she can step over the threshold, however, Sakura’s voice stops her.

“I understand your need to keep an eye on me, but children need their sleep. The boy you sent to spy on me last night couldn’t have been older than forty. In future, I’d prefer it if you sent someone else.” Soi-Fon stiffens, her shoulders drawing up. She doesn’t turn around, but Hisagi can feel the tension radiating off of her.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She hisses out through her teeth. Sakura’s mild smile never wavers, but her eyes are chilling.

“Oh, silly me. I must have imagined it, then.” She laughs lightly, a soft titter that does nothing to dispel the tension. Without another word, Soi-Fon is gone.

A minute of silence passes between them before Hisagi feels like he can breathe again.

“Did she…?” Because he really can’t believe it. Talking about it is one thing, but witnessing it is another entirely.

“There has been someone on the roof above my rooms ever since I arrived here, Hisagi-kun. I’ve no doubt there would have been someone in the 4th, too, if Unohana wasn’t the one running the place. She’s made no move, yet, so there’s no need to worry.” She says mildly, going back to unpacking the takeout.

Hisagi studies her profile for a moment, taking in her seemingly unconcerned expression, and lets out a heavy sigh.

* * *

It’s on the eighth day that he makes something of a breakthrough.

“Hisagi-san, are you okay?” He’s not expecting Kira to accost him in the hallway, especially not while he’s carrying an armload of documents destined for the archives.

“Yeah, all healed up, thanks to Unohana-Taicho and Inoue-san.” He says brightly, glad to see his longtime friend up and about. The blonde’s seemingly perpetual frown only seems to deepen.

“No, that’s…that’s not what I meant.” He says. Thoroughly confused, Hisagi adjusts the stack of reports and fixes his friend with a befuddled look.

“What did you mean, then?” He asks. Kira chews on his lip, before glancing up and down the hallway. Deciding that the coast is clear he leans in and, in a stage whisper, speaks in Hisagi’s ear.

“Aizen’s sister, she hasn’t…hurt you, has she?” He asks. Hisagi blinks, then blinks again, wishing he had his hands free to dig out the cotton that must be clogging his ears.

“Sakura-san?” He clarifies, incredulous. Kira jumps a little, obviously startled by Hisagi’s use of her first name.

“Well…yes?” He sounds caught between wanting to be concerned and confused.

“ _Sakura-san_?” Hisagi repeats. “The only one besides myself, apparently, who knows the difference between a semicolon and an em-dash? The one who always brings me tea on break? The one who likes Daifuku and trashy romance novels and playing shogi and knitting? That Sakura-san?”

Kira looks flustered now, but his eyes dip, flicking away.

“Yes, but…” And suddenly Hisagi get’s it. He let’s out a heavy sigh, shifting the stack of paperwork in his arms so he can get one hand free.

“Come on.” He commands, grabbing Kira’s wrist. The blonde's protests are weak, even as Hisagi leads him first to the archives to drop off the stack of reports, then drags him to the 9th division.

When they enter the office it is to find Sakura unpacking a shopping bag onto the Captain’s desk.

“Oh, Hisagi-kun, perfect timing.” She says, turning with a smile to greet them. She looks a little startled to see Kira, but her smile never wavers.

“Hello.” She says to him, giving him a polite little bow.

“Uh…hello.” He seems more tongue tied than anything else, so Hisagi takes over.

“Taich…Sakura-san, this is Izuru Kira, Lieutenant of the 3rd division. Do you mind if he joins us for lunch?” He asks. Sakura blinks.

“I don’t see why not, but I don’t know if I got enough for three.” She turns to frown at the takeout containers she’s spread out on the desk.

“I guess he could have mine, if he’s hungry. I can just grab something later.” She muses, tapping her chin. At his side, Hisagi feels Kira stiffen.

“I…I couldn’t possibly do that!” Kira blurts. Sakura turns to regard him curiously.

“Well, I guess, if you’re okay with it, Hisagi-kun, we could split it all? Make it fair? Is that okay?” She’s genuinely concerned, which is what Hisagi was hoping Kira would see.

“I don’t mind.” He assures her. The bright smile she gives him warms his heart, happy that he’s made her happy.

“All right, let me go get some spare utensils from the kitchen. I’ll be right back.” She says, headed for the door.

When they’re alone, Hisagi turns to Kira, who stares back at him balefully.

“She’s just so…” The blonde trails off, uncertain.

“Genuine?” Hisagi supplies. Kira nods mutely.

“I didn’t think she would be, either, not at first. I was expecting Aizen, back during his Captain days. Charming and well spoken, but aloof and cold.” Hisagi gestures for Kira to sit on one of the office couches.

“But I’ve learned that Sakura-san is unlike her brother in many ways.” He says.

“Which ones?” Kira asks. Hisagi’s smile is small, but bright.

“The ones that matter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a sensor type Sakura is very aware of the people around her. The Soul Society is keeping a close eye on her and she understands, even if she doesn't agree with some of their methods. She still doesn't like kids getting involved.
> 
> She really hasn't slept much except for the occasional light nap, partly because she doesn't feel safe and partly because Kensei isn't with her. She's used to sharing a bed and having someone she trusts beside her. 
> 
> Also, if you're wondering why Sakura always seems to be eating with Hisagi, it's because that's the only time she ever eats. She's less likely to be poisoned if the food she's purchasing is also meant for a lieutenant. So, in a way, she's kinda using him, but he understands and accepts it. 
> 
> Most of Sakura's hobbies were picked up in the living world. She started knitting shortly after they arrived and Lisa got her into trashy romance novels a few decades later. She's played Shogi (the Japanese equivalent of chess) pretty much her whole life. 
> 
> Yakitori is skewers of grilled chicken.


	14. Afterimages

It’s been twenty days since the fall of Aizen.

Twenty days since Kensei started sleeping on the lounge couch.

Nineteen days since Rose has played a song that didn’t sound like a dirge.

Eighteen days since Lisa looked at the rack where they store their zanpakuto and feels her heart begin to ache at the sight of the empty slot.

Seventeen days since Hiyori stole one of Sakura’s flannel shirts out of the laundry. Everyone noticed, but no one said anything.

Sixteen days since Love had opened the cupboard to get his coffee cup and just stood there, staring at the pink and gold monstrosity of a mug that Mashiro and Lisa had gotten Sakura as a gag gift and which she’d never thrown away.

Fifteen days since a messenger from the Soul Society had arrived, offering them full amnesty and a chance to start over.

Fourteen days since Mashiro had screamed at Shinji, tears streaming down her face, about how everything wasn’t fair.

Thirteen days since Shinji picked up Sakura’s shampoo bottle in the shower and just stood there under the spray, staring at it.

Twelve days since Hachi pointed out, quietly, that the only person who can provide them with answers is currently in the Soul Society.

Eleven days since they decided, unanimously, to return, if for only one, single purpose.

It took a long time to organize everything, get everything set up, so at the end of those eleven days, when they step through the Senkaimon, they do so with a sense of relief and foreboding. Waiting for them at the bottom of the steps is Ukitake.

“Welcome back.” He says with an easy smile. The only one to respond is Shinji, who nods jerkily back at him.

“Yo,” Says the blonde, watching the white-haired man carefully. Ukitake veritably beams at them.

“It’s good to see you all again. The Sotaicho wanted to speak with you once you arrived.” He explains.

“Uh huh, and you were unlucky and got sent to escort us.” Shinji says skeptically. Ukitake’s face doesn’t fall, but his smile does dim a bit.

“I volunteered, actually. I know the others can be kind of overbearing, at times.” He says. Shinji, feeling appropriately chastised, glances around.

“This meeting, do we have to do it now?” He asks carefully. Ukitake blinks at him.

“Do you…have somewhere to be?” He asks, sounding befuddled. They all exchange a meaningful glance, one that the white-haired captain seems to pick up on. He pauses.

“Oh, that’s right. Well, if it’s Aizen Sakura you’re looking for, I can take you to her.” He offers. Shinji’s jaw ticks, but he silently nods.

The older Captain smiles gently, turning and beginning to lead them away. He tries to strike up a conversation as they walk but, when it becomes apparent that none of the others aside from Shinji want to talk and the blonde will only answer him in monosyllables, he starts to chat aimlessly.

“I was surprised, you know. I think all of us were, to some extent. I wasn’t expecting Aizen’s little sister to be so polite. Did you know she calls me sir? She’s so cute, too, just like a little doll. It’s a shame, poor thing.” He says.

Shinji, who had only been half listening, tunes back in to the one-sided conversation.

“What do you mean?” He asks. Ukitake turns to him, expression somber.

“She’s being monitored on the Sotaicho’s orders. According to the reports she doesn’t sleep and she rarely eats. I think she’s lonely, you know?” He explains. Suddenly uncomfortable, Shinji changes the subject.

“Where are we going, anyway?” He asks and Ukitake's smile brightens.

“Sakura-san has been staying at the 9th, helping Hisagi-san with the paperwork.” He says. At his back, Shinji feels Kensei stiffen, Mashiro pressing tight against his other side.

In no time they’re being led through the familiar halls of the 9th, where Ukitake knocks on the door of the Captain’s office. Said door slides open almost an instant later to reveal Sakura, looking past Ukitake to the Visored.

She looks like hell, Shinji thinks. There is deep bruising under and around her eyes and she appears to have lost weight, her shihakusho and haori hanging off her thin shoulders. Her eyes flick over them all, lingering on Kensei before settling on Shinji.

They simply stand there, staring at each other for what feels like an eternity, until Hiyori steps forward and breaks the silence.

“Training ground six, fifteen minutes.” She says sharply. Sakura’s eyes slide to the tiny blonde and Shinji knows he’s not imagining it when her gaze drops briefly to Hiyori’s abdomen before flicking back up to her face.

Slowly, silently, she nods. Apparently satisfied, Hiyori turns on her heel and stomps away, the others trailing after her. Shinji lingers, watching for a moment longer, before following them.

* * *

Sakura isn’t deliberately late. She just…takes her time getting to the training grounds. It’s not because she’s nervous about facing Hiyori.

Really. It’s not.

When she does finally arrive, it is to see the other Visored standing on the sidelines, Hiyori crouching smack-dab in the middle of the field. Sakura very nearly sighs as the blonde stands at her approach, but it’s a close thing.

Hiyori _looks_ like she’s in good health. As do the others, for that matter, but none of _them_ were cut in half by Ichimaru Gin. Hiyori at least looks better than the last time Sakura saw her, laid out on a cot, pale and shaking, clinging desperately to life.

Sakura had considered leaving her haori in her room, but had eventually decided to just keep it on. There was no use hiding it away when they’d already seen her in it. Now, though, she fingers one of her sleeves and wonders if the four diamonds on her back will make them hate her even more.

A sudden shift behind her and a familiar reiatsu makes her pause, glancing over her shoulder at a mop of unruly dark hair and tattoos that make her heart ache.

“Hisagi-kun.” She greets him.

“Sakura-taicho.” He says formally and her wry smile is almost instantaneous.

“I’m not your Taicho.” She reminds him and he ducks his head to hide his smile.

“Perhaps, but at least allow me to referee the coming fight. Please.” He says. She regards him for a long moment before she lets out a low chuckle.

“Do as you please.” She replies, turning away from him to close the distance between herself and Hiyori. The blonde is eyeing Hisagi with a great deal of reluctance and hostility, but those are quickly transferred to Sakura when her eyes dart to her.

“Terms?” Sakura asks her. Hiyori’s frown deepens, as if she doesn’t like that the other woman is so easily agreeing to her challenge.

“Anything goes.” She snaps. Sakura nods.

“Of course. You may attack me individually or in groups, your preference.” She says easily. Hiyori’s frown deepens further, practically a scowl, before suddenly smoothing over.

“Nah, this is my fight.” She declares loudly. Sakura’s smile this time is downright indulgent.

“As you wish.” She says. Hiyori’s eyes narrow.

As Sakura steps back towards the other side of the field, she ducks her head towards Hisagi for the briefest moment.

“I expect the others to join the fight at some point. Please do not interfere if they do.” She tells him quietly. He glances at her, surprised, but nods.

The two combatants stand at either end of the field, waiting for Hisagi to move to the center, one hand raised.

“Anything goes, first to verbally forfeit or is unable to continue loses.” He calls, looking to both sides to make sure they heard. Hiyori scoffs.

“Fine.” She snaps, reaching one hand up towards her face, her other going for the hilt of her zanpakuto.

“Of course.” Sakura agrees, her right hand going to her left hip, where her sword hangs.

“Begin!” Hisagi retreats to the edge of the field, watching as both women draw their zanpakuto.

“Buttegire, Kubikiri Orochi!” As Hiyori calls her hollow mask the katana in her hand morphs, becoming a huge, serrated cleaver. She lifts it high over her head, ready to dash forward and strike, but freezes when she see’s Sakura lifting her own zanpakuto to shoulder height.

“Sekai o taberu, Ouroboros.” Hiyori feels her throat close up, locking her knees to keep herself standing as the sudden outpouring of reiatsu pushes down on her spine, making it difficult to breathe. She grits her teeth and resolves herself, but her eyes widen when the dust clears and she get’s a good look at Sakura’s shikai.

The black weapon in her hands hums with power, nearly vibrating with it. She twirls it expertly, the tassel under the oddly shaped head fanning out as it swings. Hiyori swallows, because it’s certainly not what she was expecting, even from Shinji’s account of the battle between Sakura and Aizen.

“I’m surprised you unleashed your shikai so early. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen your zanpakuto’s released form before.” She calls out. Sakura dimples at her, calm as can be.

“It would be rude of me not to.” She says simply.

“And why’s that?” Hiyori asks.

“Because my opponent is strong.” Is the surprising response.

“Are…are you trying to flatter me?” Hiyori asks, incredulous.

“That depends. Is it working?” Sakura smirks and Hiyori’s heart clenches at the familiar expression.

“No!” She snaps, and attacks.

Sakura twirls the staff, blocking Hiyori’s strike and nearly catching the tip of her mask’s horn with the orb. Hiyori jumps back, trying to gain some distance, but Sakura throws her zanpakuto almost faster than Hiyori can follow, forcing her to parry the blow. As the weapon soars back to her, Sakura cocks her head to the side.

“Something wrong?” She asks, still infuriatingly calm.

“Of course not.” Hiyori snaps, readying herself.

She launches herself forward again, but her strike is parried at the last second. Over and over Hiyori swings her zanpakuto, only to come up short, blocked at every turn. It is becoming increasingly apparent that, when it comes to sword skills, Hiyori is not the better of the two of them.

“Tch, enough of this.” She finally snaps, leaping high into the air and calling a cero.

“Hiyori!” She ignores Shinji’s warning shout, instead firing the condensed ball of reiatsu down at Sakura.

Shockingly, she catches it one handed, shattering the ball of energy in the palm of her hand before vanishing from Hiyori’s sight.

She feels the air distort behind her and then the warm sensation of Sakura’s reiatsu as two fingers are pressed to the back of her neck.

The blonde slumps, going completely limp, but she’s still conscious. Unable to hold herself up in the air, she starts to fall, cursing the whole way.

“Shit!” Shinji jumps to intercept her, but before she can crash to the ground her downward momentum is halted by Sakura’s hand fisting in the back of her jacket. Slowly, almost gently, she lowers Hiyori to the ground. Shinji blinks in surprise.

“What did you do?” He asks.

“Hakuhokori, white dust. Similar to Hakufuku, but the subject doesn’t lose consciousness.” She explains simply. Slowly, she steps away from Hiyori, back towards Hisagi. She doesn’t get very far when a low whine fills the air and she jumps back just in time to miss the long, golden spike that was aiming for her.

Still lying in the dirt, Hiyori feels a hand on her back, a muttered expletive, and then she’s being hauled up into a sitting position. Her head lolls on her limp neck, but she manages to get a look around.

The other Visored are spread out across the training field, their weapons drawn and ready. Sakura looks disturbingly unfazed, glancing around at her new opponents with something like calm calculation on her face.

Leaning over Hiyori, Shinji frowns. Instead of a counter-spell, like she’s expecting, he instead lays her back down. She blinks at him, not understanding until he stands and takes a few steps away.

“Wait a minute! What the hell, Shinji! You can’t leave me here!” She yells at him, struggling to make her extremities move and cursing when nothing happens.

“Just shut up and lay there, you were getting your ass handed to you, anyway.” He growls at her.

“I was not!” She defends, but goes quiet in surprise when Shinji turns flinty eyes on her.

“Idiot, can you not even tell that she hasn’t tapped into even a fraction of her power? You couldn’t challenge her if you tried.” He says harshly, turning away and joining the others.

In the center of the training field Sakura chews on her bottom lip, obviously thinking.

“You don’t mind, do you? Not that it matters what you say.” Shinji says with his signature grin. Sakura tilts her head a little.

“As I said, you may attack me individually or in groups, your preference.” She says, bland smile sliding into place. Shinji’s own smile stretches into a sneer.

“Aren’t we arrogant?” He asks snidely. Sakura shrugs.

“You said it yourself, I haven’t tapped into even a fraction of my potential power.” She says.

Without warning, Mashiro drops from above her, feet first. Sakura doesn’t even blink, simply reaches out with her free hand and grasps at seemingly empty air, jerking her hand back. Above her, Mashiro is yanked sideways. As if pulled by invisible marionette strings, she goes sailing through the air and slams into Love, who had been coming up on Sakura’s other side. They both crash to the ground.

Sakura raises her zanpakuto, the black metal glinting.

“Kosoku Ito, binding thread.” At her words black ropes appear, snaking through the air to wrap around Mashiro and Love, immobilizing them.

Sakura steps swiftly to the side, avoiding Lisa’s strike from behind. As the bespectacled woman continues forward with the strike's momentum, Sakura’s hand flicks out, more black rope appearing and snapping around Lisa’s abdomen, securing her arms together. Without her hands to catch herself, she crashes to the dirt with a heavy thud, her spear falling beside her.

Across from Sakura, Shinji grits his teeth and seethes. Four of them down in a matter of minutes is no easy feat, and it doesn’t bode well for them.

“Enough. Taorero, Sakanade.” The familiar shape of his zanpakuto’s shikai appears in his hand, the hilt circle beginning to rotate around his palm, but an instant later slim fingers close around his wrist. He blinks up at Sakura, surprised, and flinches when a tiny pulse of reiatsu zings up his arm. He grits his teeth at the pain of it, but what he’s not expecting is for his zanpakuto’s shape to flicker and waver, before it snaps back into its sealed form.

He stares down at it, dumbfounded and horrified, before lashing out with it. Sakura ducks away, landing a good twenty feet from him.

“What the hell did you do?!” Shinji shouts, shivering. He can’t feel anything from his zanpakuto, nothing to indicate that it can hear him at all, and it frightens him beyond words. For anyone to possess this kind of ability…

Sakura doesn’t respond, simply watches him with a blank, empty expression that reminds him far, far too much of a different Aizen.

Rose appears behind her, zanpakuto lashing out, but Sakura vanishes, appearing above him.

“Bakudo 62, Hyapporankan.” The glowing rods easily immobilize Kinshara, pinning it and Rose to the ground.

When Sakura lands, it is a few feet from Hachi. She glances up at him from under her bangs, but when he makes no move to attack or stop her, she turns away from him.

As she begins to approach him, Shinji feels the first creepings of fear crawl up his spine.

He had never expected something like this. Love, Mashiro, Lisa, and Rose are all immobilized, either with the black ropes Sakura had summoned or with kido. Hachi is practically a non-combatant, he can’t call his zanpakuto, and Hiyori is still laid out on the ground behind him, unable to move.

A thud makes them both turn. Kensei stands at the other end of the training field, Tachikaze held loosely in his fist, mask in place. A moment passes where he and Sakura simply stare at each other, silent, unmoving, before he lifts his zanpakuto.

“Bankai.” The wind that Tekken Tachikaze kicks up is enormous, nearly blowing Shinji off his feet before he drops to his knees to better anchor himself.

Kensei takes a single step towards Sakura, who hasn’t moved an inch, fists raised. Her eyes are sad, but they watch his every move carefully. A breath passes, a heartbeat, and then Kensei lunges. He closes the distance in an instant, arm drawing back.

But, instead of connecting, he stops his punch an inch from her nose. Her hair ruffles in the breeze kicked up by the attack, but she doesn’t flinch, doesn’t so much as blink, simply stares him down.

“Why are you hesitating?” She asks. Kensei jerks, arm still outstretched, but doesn’t answer.

“You have the opportunity to defeat your enemy. Why are you hesitating?” She repeats, the faintest flicker of anger creeping into her tone. Slowly, Kensei steps back, letting his arm drop. His mask disappears, revealing his face. His eyes are darting between her own, apparently searching for something. He seems to find it, because he lets his bankai dissipate, fading back to its shikai form.

“Because you weren’t going to dodge it.” He says, matter of factly. Sakura stiffens, jaw ticking. Kensei gestures around the training ground.

“You’ve been using kido and your threads to immobilize us, blocking and dodging, but never attacking. Your goal was never to hurt us.” He says. Sakura’s eyes narrow, lips turning down at the corners.

“I could have been luring you into a trap.” She bites out. Kensei snorts, smile wry.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” He says. Sakura’s expression darkens, her glare intensifying.

“Why aren’t you angry?” She finally snaps. “I lied to you! I deceived you in the worst possible way! You should be angry! You should hate me!” Kensei just shrugs at her outburst.

“Did you lie when you complained about Hiyori’s terrible cooking?” He asks. Sakura blinks, obviously not having expected the question, but drops her chin and doesn’t respond.

“Did you lie when you and Mashiro fought over who had to do the dishes, or clean up the warehouse?” He asks. Her jaw ticks.

“Did you lie when you and Lisa and Love would sit together and read for the whole day? Did you lie when you asked Rose to borrow some of his music? Did you lie to Shinji when you told him his taste in clothes was shit? Did you lie to Hachi when the two of you would meditate while the rest of us were training?” He asks. Sakura doesn’t answer but blinks rapidly, eyes wet.

Kensei takes a careful step forward, closing the scant distance between them.

“Did you lie to me when you told me you loved me?” His voice is soft, almost a whisper, and she flinches as if he’s struck her, taking a shuffling step back.

“Don’t.” Her voice is cracking, brittle.

“You didn’t lie to us, not about what was important. As for everything else, I’m sure you had your reasons.” He says quietly, one hand reaching out to skim her arm. She flinches again, shying away from him.

“You don’t know that.” She snaps, but there’s no bite to her words, no venom. Kensei actually chuckles at that, tugging gently at the arm he’s holding, pulling her toward him and preventing her from backing away from him.

“I do, though.” He says.

“How?” She asks, voice shaking. Carefully, slowly, he cups her face and forces her to look up at him.

“Because I know you. You don’t have the same capacity for cruelty and deceit that your brother does and, more importantly, you would never intentionally hurt the people you love. You just don’t have it in you.” He says. She stares up into his eyes, tears gathering rapidly in her own.

“Kensei…” The tears spill over and she screws her eyes shut, trying to duck her head. His grip prevents her from hiding her face and the first choked sob shakes her whole frame.

“I’m sorry.” She hiccups a little, eyes blurry through her tears.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” It becomes a litany as she breaks down and Kensei gently tugs her into his arms. She sags against him, hands clinging to him, sobbing her apologies into his chest.

Kensei simply holds her through it and Shinji has to wonder when the temperamental Visored turned into the most level headed one among them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, this chapter was so hard to write. I think I rewrote it two or three times and I'm still not entirely satisfied, but meh. Anyway, the title has to do with the "afterimages" the Visored have to deal with through the first part of the chapter, the little reminders of the person who was there but isn't anymore. 
> 
> For those of you thinking "Kensei would never do/act like that!", he's been in a committed romantic relationship with this person for almost 80 years. I imagine he considers himself an expert on all things Sakura, from how she thinks to her habits and nervous ticks. And it's not like Sakura was going all out on them. Even when she threw Ouroboros at Hiyori at the beginning of their fight, she was never going to let it hit. She was holding back because she doesn't want to harm them. So her tactic was never to injure, but to restrain.
> 
> And Shinji's behavior towards Hiyori is easily explained. He almost lost her. They're all going to treat her differently for a while, like she's breakable, because even if she's healed, they're still afraid.


	15. Peace Talks

This is probably one of the strangest gathering that Hisagi has seen in a very long time. Despite the continued glares he’s receiving from the small blonde woman, he remains stoically at Sakura’s elbow. Partly because, for the time being, she’s the closest he has to a Captain and partly because he has a feeling that the coming conversation is going to be difficult. He’s decided that he, at least, will be on her side.

They’re in a meeting room in the 9th, seated around a round wooden table with most of the Visored crowded around one side. The only exception is Kensei, who sits within touching distance of Sakura. She is watching the others with sad eyes, but her back is straight and her head is up, every bit the competent Captain.

“What do you want to know?” She asks Shinji. He frowns.

“There’s…a lot, actually. Just, start at the beginning, will you?” He says. She shrugs.

“Okay. I was born in the Rukongai, but my mother died giving birth to me. As we didn’t have a father, Sosuke did his best to raise me.” She says.

“I was about nine, I think, when the Royal Guard came. Apparently, the Soul King had had a vision, about me, and had determined that my potential was enough to warrant procuring me. He sent Hyosube Ichibe and Nimaiya Oetsu to…collect me.” She continues.

“Collect?” Kensei asks. Sakura shrugs.

“It wasn’t really a negotiation, you know? Neither my brother or I was given any choice in the matter. No one refuses the Soul King’s orders.” She explains. The faces around her are grim, but she continues.

“I was raised in the palace by the other Guard members. It took me around thirty-five years to actually attain the position I had been taken for, but by that time my brother was already researching ways to gain access to the Soul King’s palace.” Here, she drops her gaze to her teacup.

“My very first assignment, as a member of the Royal Guard, was to be a spy against my brother.” She says, voice tight. Shinji is frowning.

“Why didn’t you just talk to him? By that point he hadn’t done anything yet, right? Wouldn’t seeing you again have stopped all this before it began?” He asks, sounding confused and a little angry. Sakura raises her eyes.

“I suggested that, actually, but my request was refused. In fact, I was forbidden from making direct contact with him during my mission. I still don’t know why. Anyway, my reiatsu was sealed before I entered the Soul Society and I enrolled in the Shin’o Academy, hoping to get closer to my brother.” She continues. It is Kensei turn to frown.

“If I remember correctly, you took all six years to complete the curriculum, right? And your test scores weren’t anything spectacular. Why was that?” He asks.

“I needed to be average. My tattoo concealed my reiatsu from my brother, but I still needed to keep a low profile. Doing something outrageous was only going to draw unwanted attention to myself.”

“So why become a 7th seat? And why the 9th?” Shinji asks.

“Hey!” Kensei sounds ticked at the subtle jab, but falls silent when Sakura continues to speak.

“Tosen Kaname was already suspected of working with my brother by that point, but he’d never met me. He had no way of knowing what my reiatsu felt like and he couldn’t describe me to my brother because of his blindness. All he could tell him was that a new 7th seat had been picked up, and that her name was Hagasu.” She explains.

“Wait a minute,” Shinji says, leaning his elbows on the table.

“When Hikifune was promoted to the Zero Division you were acting as a member of the 9th. How does that work?” He asks. Something in Sakura’s face closes off, mouth turning down at the corners.

“There must always be five guarding the Soul King. As it was becoming apparent that this was going to be a long-term mission, a replacement was chosen to take over my position.” She says.

“But, doesn’t that mean…” Shinji starts, but Sakura cuts him off.

“As it has been made quite clear to me several times, I should not attempt to understand the motives of my elders. I don’t know _why_ they chose Hikifune, just that they _did_.” She says, a clear tone of bitterness in her voice. Shinji decides to change the subject.

“Okay, fine, so you joined the 9th. You weren’t part of the squad that Kensei took with him and you didn’t get sent with the rest of us, either. You told us you’d been sent as relief after we left.” He says. Sakura grimaces.

“A half-truth. I had a bad feeling about the whole thing, so I decided to tail Kensei and Mashiro-chan. I…” She pauses, obviously uncomfortable, and ducks her head.

“I saw…what happened. First with squad 9, then with the rest of you.” She says, looking utterly miserable.

“So, you were there the entire time?” Shinji asks, gut twisting. She nods, still not looking up from the tabletop.

“I couldn’t interfere because doing so would expose me to my brother. It wasn’t until Urahara and Tessai-san showed up and chased them off that I could come out of hiding.” She says.

“Then…why? Why come with us? Wouldn’t staying in Soul Society have been better suited to your mission?” Shinji asks. She glances at him before letting out a long, heavy sigh. She clasps her teacup and turns it slowly between her palms, staring down into it.

“I guess…I wanted to. It wasn’t something I had to think very hard on. It just felt right, like something I was meant to do. And it’s not like I couldn’t continue to do my job from the living world.” She explains. Shinji is frowning again.

“And you just…never said anything.” He says, sounding bitter. Sakura’s eyes cut to him.

“Only five people knew about my mission, Shinji. Even the _Sotaicho_ wasn’t informed. Classified doesn’t even begin to cover it.” She snaps. He glares back at her.

“That’s not true. Urahara had to know. And Tessai and Yoruichi.” He says. Sakura shakes her head.

“All I ever told Urahara was that I was there on orders from a higher power. I never told him my name or the nature of my mission. Whatever he told the others is anyone’s guess.” She explains.

“Okay, fine.” He says. “You said you continued your mission in the living world. How?”

At this, Sakura’s lips thin and her chin drops.

“A double-agent that had been taking my orders, one who’d been close to my brother since the very beginning.” She says. Hiyori’s head comes up at that and her eyes narrow on Sakura.

“Who?” She asks, voice cold. Sakura meets her eyes head on, unblinking.

“Ichimaru Gin.” She replies. A heavy silence falls over the table and she continues to speak into the quiet.

“He would report to me every few years with updates about my brother’s progress and current plans. I would provide him with any relevant information that he needed.” She says. One of Hiyori’s hands goes to her abdomen, clenching in the material of her shirt.

“So, you where the one…” She trails off. Sakura takes a deep breath, letting it out in a long exhale.

“I gave Gin explicit orders that he was to do anything he thought necessary to remain at my brother’s side, up to and including murder.” She says quietly. Hiyori’s face goes white, mouth pinching, and she looks away.

An uncomfortable silence falls, broken when Shinji places his sheathed zanpakuto on the tabletop.

“What did you do to Sakanade?” He asks. Sakura blinks, shaking herself a little at the change in mood, and lets her eyes fall to the sword.

“I was raised by the man who invented zanpakuto. One of the first things he ever taught me was how to subdue one. Sakanade will wake up in a few hours and you’ll both be fine.” She explains.

Shinji frowns at her, then leans back a little, apparently satisfied with her answer. In his place, Hachi tilts his head forward.

“You said that Tessai-san helped you make your mask more authentic. How did you do it?” He asks, sounding curious. Sakura blinks.

“I created the basic shape from my own condensed reiatsu. Tessai-san then helped me weave fragments of a dead hollow into it, to give it the proper feel and to define the shape. Another spell let me store it in a pocket dimension, so I didn’t have to find a place to hide it when I wasn’t using it. A few dampeners and it looked and felt like the real thing.” She explains.

“So whenever you called it, the hollow fragments would be overlaid over your own spiritual pressure, giving it the proper feel.” Hachi says. Sakura nods.

“That’s right.” She says. Hachi hums.

“That’s impressive spell work.” He comments.

“Well, Tessai-san did most of it. Kido has never been my strong suit.” Sakura says sheepishly.

Another pause, where she looks to each of them in turn. After a moment, she scoots back a little from the table before bending at the waist in a deep bow, hands on the floor beside her thighs.

“I cannot apologize enough for what I’ve done. All I can ask is that you allow me to somehow make it up to you.” She says somberly, head bowed.

Hiyori snorts and all eyes are suddenly on the blonde, who is glaring at Sakura.

“Do you think any of _this_ ,” here she gestures around them. “Makes any of this okay? Do you think we’ll just forgive you for what you did, _Aizen_?” She spits the name like a slur.

Sakura’s expression doesn’t change, remaining carefully blank, but something sparks in the depths of her eyes. She straightens.

“No, I don’t expect you to forgive me, not immediately, maybe not ever, but I think you’re forgetting something.” She says.

“And what’s that?” Hiyori snaps. At that, something in Sakura’s gaze hardens, closing off.

“I am not my brother.” She hisses, anger and hurt clear in her tone. Hiyori starts, clearly not having expected the vehemence behind Sakura’s words. Those brown eyes are still on her, boring into her.

“I was given a mission, an objective, but that was it. No backup, no outside help. I had to do everything on my own. I entered and graduated from the academy on my own. I chose to join the 9th on my own. I decided to run with you on my own, not because I had to, but because I wanted to. My choices were my own, and I take full responsibility for them. But I have never, ever lied outright to any of you about anything except my name.” She says, and there’s a waver in her voice, a tremor that resonates with the nine people sitting around the table.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t who you thought I was. I’m sorry I lied by omission. I’m sorry I didn’t disclose my highly classified mission to you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you my real name. But I’m not sorry for how things turned out in the end. If you hate me, then so fucking be it, because the eight of you are _alive_ , and that’s good enough for me.” Sakura sucks in a breath and blinks rapidly, but her eyes never waver from Hiyori’s.

“I’m not going to taunt you or throw insults. I’m not going to play the bad guy. Maybe that would give you a way out, maybe that would make it easier for you to hate me, but I won’t do it. I’m not that person.” She says. After a moment, her eyes slide shut and she ducks her head, taking a few deep breaths. When she raises her head she looks much calmer, but resigned. Stiffly, she gets to her feet.

“I need to go speak to the Sotaicho about something. If you need anything, all you have to do is ask.” She offers. Shinji blinks owlishly up at her.

“We need to go talk to the old man, too.” He explains. Sakura inclines her head to him then glances to Hisagi, who gives her a subtle nod.

“Hisagi will escort you. If you’ll please excuse me.” She gives them another slight bow before turning for the door.

As she disappears, Kensei's frown deepens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you think it's strange that Sakura was willing to let Kensei hit her at full strength with his Bankai but isn't willing to take Hiyori's shit, I can only say that she's a complex person with complex feelings. Also, there are varying degrees of guilt happening here. While she cares about Hiyori as a friend, she was intimately involved with Kensei. Their bond is deeper. Her reasoning was that, if she was going to let any of them get a shot in, it was always going to be Kensei.


	16. The Parting

She’s not expecting anyone to be waiting for her when she exits the Chokaimon, so she is surprised to see Senjumaru standing at the top of the stairs, accompanied by a slender woman with lavender colored hair.

“Welcome back.” Senjumaru says, nodding to her. Sakura returns the gesture, before turning to the unfamiliar woman.

“You must be my replacement. It’s nice to meet you, Hikifune Kirio.” She says. The former captain frowns at her, but finally manages a strained smile.

“You must be Aizen Sakura, the one Nimaiya is always going on about. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” She says. They stare at each other for a few more moments before Senjumaru breaks the tension.

“You have an appointment with the Soul King, don’t you, Sakura?” She asks. Sakura nods, beginning her ascension of the stairs. As she passes the two other women, Senjumaru reaches out to gently touch her shoulder.

“It is good to see you again, Sakura-chan.” She says sincerely. Sakura’s smile is pained, but she says nothing as she continues farther into the palace, towards the Soul King’s rooms.

Her steps echo through the stone halls, reminding her of just how lonely this place really is.

She’d only spent thirty-five years here, being raised and trained by the other members of the Royal Guard, but there had only ever been the five of them. Hyosube had kept his distance from her whenever she wasn’t training, Kirinji actively hated her, and Senjumaru was almost always busy. Consequently, Sakura had spent much of her time with Nimaiya Oetsu. Hell, the man and his zanpakuto spirits had practically raised her.

She smiles slightly as she remembers the day she’d left, Nimaiya pulling her into a tight hug as he bawled his eyes out, promising he’d keep an eye on her and making her swear she wouldn’t get herself killed.

She pauses as she reaches the Soul King’s chamber, the seal on the door proclaiming the sacred ground she is about the enter. Truthfully, she’s met the monarch exactly twice, not including this meeting, but that doesn’t stop the shiver that runs down her spine as she presses her palms to the doors and they creak slowly open.

Thirty minutes later, as she steps back out of those same doors, it is to find Hyosube standing in the hall, glare disapproving.

“I cannot allow you to leave.” He says gruffly once the doors behind her have closed with a resounding boom. For her part, Sakura feels lighter than she has in over a century. A vindictive kind of glee blossoms in her chest and she smiles fully at him, though it’s more of a baring of teeth than any kind of show of mirth.

“Considering I have permission from both the Sotaicho and the Soul King himself, I don’t see how you’re going to stop me.” She says snidely. The monk’s eyes narrow.

“This is a dangerous game you’re playing at, girl.” He growls.

“It’s good that I was always the better Shogi player, then, isn’t it?” She sneers at him.

They stare each other down for a few more moments, neither one backing down. Finally, Hyosube lets out a grunt and turns his back on her.

“You were always a troublesome child.” He says derisively before striding off.

Sakura watches him walk away with a small smile on her face. With a little skip, she descends the steps from the Soul King’s room and heads for the Hooden.

She is met at the door by Mera and Hasuka, who stare at her for a full three-seconds before they seem to recognize her. The blonde grabs her in a tight hug while the red-head starts shouting for Nimaiya, who nearly trips over himself when he sees her.

“Sakura-chan!” Hasuka lets go of her and steps back just in time to avoid getting sandwiched between the two shinigami, Sakura laughing as Nimaiya’s hair tickles her nose. He drops his face onto her shoulder and starts crying profusely, getting snot all over her haori. She pats his back reassuringly, humming softly.

“Jeez, look at you. It’s not like I was gone for over a century, oh wait…” She teases him. He pulls back with a sniffle.

“I’ve missed you, Sakura-chan.” He says. She smiles up at him.

“I missed you, too. And you guys.” She turns to Mera and Hasuka, who have been joined by Tokie, Nonomi, and Tsumiko.

“Welcome back, Sakura-chan!” They chorus together. Still smiling, she turns back to Nimaiya.

“Do you have time for lunch?” She asks him hopefully. He wipes at his eyes and nods enthusiastically.

“Of course, of course. For you, I have all the time in the world.” He says excitedly, turning to lead her deeper into the palace.

It’s only once they’re seated and he’s pushing a full plate of food at her does Sakura realize how hungry she is. She pauses after the first mouthful, however, and stares down at her plate. While under any other circumstance it would be a fantastically delicious meal, the food tastes like ash in her mouth. She knows why, too. At her heavy sigh, Nimaiya glances at her.

“Is something wrong, Sakura-chan?” He asks, sounding worried.

“No, I’m fine.” She says, forcing herself to take another bite.

“That’s good, that’s good. Have you figured out what you’re going to do now? I mean, Hikifune kinda took over your palace when she came up, but I’m assuming we’re gonna build a new one somewhere.” He muses. Sakura blinks at him before placing her chopsticks neatly down next to her plate, folding her hands together in her lap.

“I’m leaving tomorrow morning, actually.” She says. Nimaiya turns to stare at her, brows furrowed.

“Have you been assigned another mission?” He asks, obviously confused.

“I guess you could consider it a permanent mission, considering I’m not coming back.” She tells him. He stares at her for a full minute, not comprehending what she’s telling him, then nearly knocks over the table in his haste to stand up, anger written clearly across his face.

“WHY? Is this Hyosube’s doing? You just got back! Can’t they let you rest for a little while? I’ll kill that bastard!” Sakura reaches out and grabs the hem of his puffy vest, stopping his rant and tugging him back toward his seat.

“I’m demoting myself.” She says. That derails him and he turns to stare at her.

“What?” He sounds beyond confused. She sighs.

“I came here today to speak with the Soul King, to get his permission to become a Captain of the Gotei 13. I’ve already spoken to and gotten the approval of the Sotaicho. Once I go back, I will no longer be considered a member of the Royal Guard.” She explains.

Nimaiya is silent for a moment before he falls heavily back into his seat, still staring at her.

“Sakura-chan, _why_?” He sounds _hurt_ , which is far worse than any other reaction she was expecting.

“My brother has been condemned to the 8th level, Muken. I’ve been granted permission to see him on occasion, and I intend to accept that offer. Also, as a condition of Ichimaru Gin’s exoneration, I have to directly supervise him for the next two hundred years. He’s going to be my 3rd seat.” She says. Nimaiya is watching her with a more thoughtful expression now.

“You’ve been considering this for a long time, haven’t you?” He finally asks. She nods.

“Since the Visored were forced to flee from the Soul Society. Probably even before that, actually.” She says.

“Before?” He asks her. She blinks a little, then casts him a hard, calculating look.

“If I asked you, would you tell me why my request to speak with my brother at the beginning of all this was denied?” She asks him, eyes sharp. He stiffens, straightening in his seat, swallowing nervously.

“I’m sorry, Sakura-chan. I can’t.” He tells her. She turns her face away.

“I always thought it was odd, being prohibited from speaking to my brother. Even before he started trying to find a way to enter the Soul King’s palace, I was completely cut off from him. I thought, maybe, it was because you didn’t want him to have any influence over me. But then later, when I was forbidden from approaching him during my mission, to the point where my reiatsu was sealed in such a way that he couldn’t sense it, did I begin to think it was something else entirely.” She turns back to Nimaiya with those same sharp, narrowed eyes, and he finds himself unable to meet her gaze.

“I’m sorry, Sakura-chan. If I could I would tell you.” He mumbles at the table. She lets out a heavy sigh, eyes softening.

“I’m sorry, too. I know it’s been difficult for you, caught in the middle between myself and Hyosube.” She says. He glances up at her, looking downright miserable, and she feels some of her anger ebb away.

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter if I stay here or not. My replacement has already been found and she seems to have settled in nicely. There only needs to be five guarding the Soul King. A sixth is unnecessary.” She says, sounding sad.

“Sakura-chan…” Nimaiya trails off, apparently sensing her mood, and changes the subject.

“What division are you taking over?” He asks. Her face brightens with a sarcastic smile.

“The 3rd. Should be fun, considering it’s Gin’s old division and the lieutenant seems deathly afraid of and/or constantly angry with him.” She says breezily.

“Did Gin hurt him?” Nimaiya asks.

“Not physically, but Gin is almost as good at manipulating people as my brother. I’ve no doubt he left a few mental scars. There had to be no question that he’d cut his ties to the Soul Society so even if he did care for his lieutenant he couldn’t show it. I don’t know if I can help the poor guy get over his trauma, or even if I should. Ah, what a mess.” She says, running a hand agitatedly through her hair.

Nimaiya smiles kindly.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out, you’re much smarter than the rest of us.” He points out. She snorts.

“That’s not saying much, coming from you.” She teases.

“Oi!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Senkaimon - World Penetration Gate, the gateway that Shinigami use to enter and leave the Soul Society  
> Chokaimon - World Transcending Gate, the Royal Guard's version of the Senkaimon
> 
> Sakura really only has a good relationship with Nimaiya and Senjumaru. Her reaction to meeting Hikifune has to do more with her feelings towards being replaced by Hyosube, not so much her personal opinions of the woman. Hikifune also realizes that, if she really wanted her position back, Sakura has the power to demote her. But, instead, she's choosing to leave the Royal Guard because, quite honestly, there's nothing for her there. 
> 
> Something of a short chapter. The next arc will be starting soon, so stay tuned!


	17. To Have

The creak of the doors opening before her doesn’t sound half as ominous as it probably should. Maybe it’s her current mood, but Sakura can’t quite bring herself to care, not when she’s adjusting the sleeves of her new haori as she enters the Captain’s meeting room, Kira on her heels.

Before she can line up with the other Captain’s and Lieutenants, however, a massive giant of a man steps into her path.

They stare at each other for a moment, a feral grin sliding across the man’s face.

“So you’re Aizen’s kid sister, eh?” He asks. Sakura, for her part, doesn’t flinch, simply stares up at the giant with a bland expression.

“I am. Aizen Sakura, pleased to meet you.” She introduces herself. Instead of a normal introduction, however, the man reaches for his zanpakuto.

“Zaraki Kenpachi. You seem pretty strong, all things considered.” He says, his reiatsu starting to fluctuate dangerously. Sakura dimples at him.

“Thank you, but this is neither the time nor the place for such things. Perhaps another time?” She suggests breezily. Kenpachi’s face falls a little and he huffs unhappily.

“Fine.” He turns on his heels and trudges back to his spot, leaving Sakura to join the lineup between Soi-Fon and Unohana. Across from her, Hisagi gives her a little wave, one she returns.

As she was the last to arrive, the Sotaicho quickly calls the meeting to order.

“This is the formal introduction of a new Captain of the 13 Court Guard Companies. Captain of the 3rd division, Aizen Sakura, step forward.” He booms and she does, head held high, eyes forward. She ignores the stares, especially those from the captain of the 10th and the lieutenant of the 5th, which she can feel like physical touches against her skin.

“It’s a pleasure to meet everyone. Officially.” She says with a little smile, inclining her head. She receives no response, which she was expecting. It will no doubt take everyone involved a while to warm up to her.

As she steps back into place the Sotaicho begins to speak again.

“Show them in.” He says. Sakura hears the doors creak again and watches silently as the Visored file into the room, lead by Shinji.

They all seem surprised to see her but none of them say anything, instead moving to stand in a loose group before the Captain Commander.

“Have you thought on our offer?” The Sotaicho asks. Shinji, obviously acting as the mouthpiece of the group, nods.

“Yeah, we have. There are a few of us willing to return, if offered the proper position.” He says. The Commander nods.

“Understandable. The 5th and the 9th are still without Captains, if any of you would be willing to take up the task.” He says. Shinji’s brow furrows a bit.

“And the 3rd?” He asks. The Sotaicho nods his head in Sakura’s direction.

“That position has been filled by Aizen Sakura.” He says. From her spot Sakura can see Shinji’s shoulders stiffen, but the blonde doesn’t comment. Instead, he glances behind him to the others. Kensei nods, stepping forward with Mashiro at his heels.

“It’ll just be the three of us, then.” Says Shinji. The Sotaicho inclines his head regally.

“Muguruma Kensei, Kuna Mashiro, we of the Gotei 13 would offer you back your positions as the Captain and Lieutenant of 9th company.” He says formally.

“We accept.” Kensei says, Mashiro nodding along beside him. Sakura frowns and, before the Sotaicho can move on to Shinji, speaks up.

“A moment, please.” All eyes are suddenly on her, but she keeps her gaze on Kensei.

“I would like to recommend to you the current Lieutenant of the 9th, Hisagi Shuuhei. He is an exceptional shinigami and is quite capable.” She says. Kensei blinks at her, one eyebrow hiking up.

“Is that so?” He asks, the only one among the Visored to acknowledge her so far. Sakura nods, a small smile slipping across her face.

“Yes, he even knows the difference between a semicolon and an em-dash.” She says. That startles a bark of laughter from Kensei, who then turns to Hisagi, the dark haired man straightening under the sudden scrutiny.

“That right, kid?” Kensei asks him. Hisagi blinks, then nods.

“Yes, Muguruma-taicho.” He answers. Kensei smirks, opening his mouth to speak but is interrupted by Mashiro, who is glancing back and forth between him and Hisagi.

“Wait a minute, Kensei! You can’t replace me with this guy!” She shrills. Kensei grunts.

“It’s fine if I have two lieutenants, idiot, calm down.” He snaps.

“Ah, no, stupid Kensei!” Mashiro pouts, sticking out her bottom lip like a petulant child.

“Shut up!”

“Moving on.” The Sotaicho deigns to interrupt, gaze falling to Shinji.

“Hirako Shinji, we of the Gotei 13 would offer you back your position as the Captain of 5th company.” He says. Shinji gives a jerky nod of his head.

“Yeah, okay, I accept.” He says.

And it’s over just like that, Kensei, Mashiro, and Shinji moving to stand in their proper spots. Mashiro next to Hisagi, with Kensei in front of them, and Shinji in front of Hinamori. The other Visored remain standing in the center of the room as the Sotaicho turns his eyes on them.

“I’ve no doubt that we could find places for all of you, if you so chose.” He offers. Hiyori shakes her head.

“Nah, we’re gonna head back to the living world.” She says. The Captain Commander frowns, but inclines his head.

“I will have an escort prepared.” He says, then turns his gaze on Sakura.

“Finally, Sakura-taicho, I believe you have an announcement.” He prompts. Sakura sucks in a breath, mouth pinching as she nods.

“I will be taking on a new third seat.” She announces. Murmuring goes up amongst the others, but she ignores them all, eyes remaining steadfastly on the Sotaicho. He sticks to his role, even if he knows what’s coming.

“And who would you name for the position?” He asks formally. Sakura bites the inside of her cheek, spine straightening as she lifts her head defiantly.

“Ichimaru Gin.”

There is instant uproar, voices raised in protest. The Captain Commander bangs his walking stick against the ground several times, voice carrying across the room over the hubbub.

“Silence! This is not a debate! These decisions have already been made. Show him in.” He booms. Silence descends as the doors creak open a third time, admitting a head of silver hair. Gone are the white robes he wore under Aizen, replaced with a regular shinigami’s uniform.

Gin saunters up to Sakura, head lowering in deference even as that all too familiar smile remains firmly in place.

“Sakura-taicho.” He greets.

“Gin. I expect you to behave yourself.” She says, eyes narrowing in clear warning. His smile widens.

“Of course, Captain.” He offers her a bow before turning to Kira, who has remained motionless, frozen at Sakura’s back.

“It’s good to see you again, Kira-kun.” He says and Sakura lets out a heavy sigh as she feels the blonde flinch behind her.

“Gin.” Her voice is a reprimand, one he answers with a smile.

“Yes, Taicho?” He asks. She regards him for a moment before tilting her head slightly to the side.

“Hold out your hand.” She commands. He hesitates for a moment, before offering her his right hand. She takes it, fingers closing gently around his wrist, turning it so his knuckles face the floor. She raises her opposite hand and pinches the seemingly empty air above his palm.

When she draws her hand away, she has a single glowing strand held between her index finger and thumb. She examines it for a moment before letting Gin go and turning to Kira.

“Would you like it, Kira-kun?” She offers, holding it out to him. The man stares at her, eyes wide and mouth open. He blinks rapidly as his gaze falls to the glowing thread.

“What is it?” He asks.

“It’s a type of binding thread. With this, I’ll know where he is at all times and I can discipline him through it, too.” She explains. Kira gulps.

“Discipline?” He chokes.

“It’s tied to his nervous system. A single thought could cause him unimaginable pain.” She says evenly. Kira’s eyes jump to hers and there is a long, drawn out moment where he just stares at her. Finally, he slowly reaches out and gently pushes her hand away.

“Thank you for the offer, Taicho, but I must decline.” He says politely, offering her a small bow. Sakura continues to watch him, before shrugging one shoulder.

“Suit yourself.” She says, pressing the end of the glowing thread to the hilt of her zanpakuto. It brightens briefly before vanishing altogether. When Sakura turns back to Gin, it is with a knowing expression on her face.

“Don’t make me use it.” She tells him, to which he nods once in understanding.

And with that, the meeting is adjourned.

As the other Captains and Lieutenants break up into groups Sakura steps towards the door.

“We’ll meet you back at the 3rd, Kira-kun.” She says, gesturing for Gin to follow her.

“Yes, Taicho.” He replies, watching as the two disappear through the doors.

Gin waits only until they’ve turned the first corner before questioning her.

“Can you really tell where I am?” He asks, looking down at his right hand.

“Nothing I told Kira was untrue, Gin.” Sakura’s reply makes him pause.

“So it really can…” He trails off, glancing at his new captain out of the corner of his eye.

“I have no intention of using it how I described but yes, it is connected to your nervous system and yes, I can use it to track you.” She says. He falls silent for a moment, the only sound being their footfalls on the hardwood.

“How did you know Kira was going to refuse?” He finally asks her. She pauses, forcing him to draw up short.

“I didn’t.” She says simply. His head tilts in confusion.

“Then…” He trails off as she turns fully to face him.

“If he had wanted it, I had every intention of giving it to him, Gin.” She explains. He regards her with a frown.

“And if he’d used it as you’d suggested?” He asks. Her head tilts and her eyes narrow a little.

“I would not have let him kill you.” She says. Gin swallows.

“But you wouldn’t have stopped him, either.” He finishes for her. Her eyes turn sad.

“We both have a lot to make up for. This is the first step.” She says. He blinks in surprise as she turns away from him.

“You’re free to do as you please. I won’t restrict your movements, but I will ask that you not actively try and incite anything.” She says. He frowns at her.

“Wait, what are you saying?” He asks.

“I’m saying you can do as you like, within reason. I trust you to fight your own battles, Gin. I’ll come bail you out if you need me to, but I don’t really anticipate that happening.” She glances at him over her shoulder, smug smile in place.

“I expect you to be a model 3rd seat. Have fun.” She says, before disappearing in a flash of shunpo.

Gin stares at the place where she’d been standing a moment before. Then, he drops his face into his hands and starts to laugh uncontrollably.

Truly, his new captain is a riot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sakura offering Kira the thread was both a peace offering and a test. If he'd taken it, she would have given it to him but would have watched him much more closely. As he refused it, he passed the test and she knows she can trust him around Gin. Even when he's being a little shit.


	18. To Hold

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough, Taicho?” Hisagi asks delicately, gently prying the sake bottle from Sakura’s hand. She huffs at him, but her eyes are glassy and her face is flushed.

“‘m not ‘ur Taicho, ‘nd I can still drink more’n you.” She says, pointing a finger imperiously at him. She’s surprisingly articulate for someone three sheets to the wind. Still, he can’t help his lopsided smile as he stands, slinging one of her arms around his shoulders and hoisting her from the bar stool. She only sways for a second before she seems to find her feet, though she continues to lean heavily against his side. True, she could probably drink him into a coma, but he’d only been sipping as he watched her slam back enough alcohol to poison a dozen men.

She’s quiet as he makes his way back to the 9th division, wondering if Muguruma-Taicho will mind if he lets the inebriated former Royal Guard sober up on the office couch. He frowns at the thought and dismisses it, instead trying to remember if her previous room in the barracks is still free. He’s not quiet comfortable with leaving her at the 6th with Kira and Ichimaru just yet, especially as drunk as she is. Though both seem deferential enough when it comes to her, Kira is still jumpy around his former captain and Ichimaru…well, Ichimaru is just creepy.

Hisagi sighs as he makes his way towards the 9th’s living quarters, supporting the inebriated captain agains his shoulder. He’s startled out of his musings when Sakura pats his scarred cheek.

“‘u gotta promise me, Hisagi-kun.” She says, and he blinks in confusion while she squints up at him.

“‘u gotta promise me ‘at you’ll take care ‘a Mashiro-chan an’ Kensei. ‘specially Kensei. Mashiro-chan likes…uh, sweets, ’n snacks. ‘llways have snacks for Mashiro-chan. She ‘lso really really really likes cute stuff. ‘nd plushies. ‘llways have plushies for Mashiro-chan. But on’y if they’re green. She likes to complain a lot ‘nd make fun ‘a Kensei, but she’s really a good person. She likes noodles, too, but no’ miso ramen.” She frowns, and Hisagi is concerned to note the deep furrow between her brows.

“Kensei…likes tea ’n ‘is orange. No no no. S’not right. Orange goes ’n th’ tea. He likes orange ’n ‘is tea. And ramen and tempura, but no’ eggpl’nt. Don’t give ‘im eggpl’nt, Hisagi-kun. Make sure he eats veggies, tho’, ‘cause otherwise he’ll jus’ eat a lotta meat ‘nd maybe some rice ‘nd some soup. He likes soup. But on’y if there’s crackers wit’ it. ‘nd even he can’t get Mashiro-chan to do paperw’rk, so tha’s a lost cause.” She blinks blearily, head lolling a little as she sways.

“I miss ‘em.” She says sadly, and Hisagi stops in his tracks, staring down at her face. She looks miserable, eyes glassy with unshed tears, mouth downturned, eyes creased.

“I miss ‘em, but they’re still mad, so ‘u gotta take care of ‘em while I can’t. ‘kay, Hisagi-kun?” She’s looking up at him, something unbearably sad in her gaze, and Hisagi feels his heart constrict. Finally, he nods.

“I will, Taicho.” He promises.

“‘m not ‘ur Taicho.” Sakura says sleepily, before promptly passing out on Hisagi’s arm. He gives a muffled curse and stumbles under her sudden dead weight, shifting his own in order to prevent himself from dropping her.

He sighs, resolving to carry her the rest of the way, but pauses when the shuffle of feet announces the arrival of someone else. His head jerks up.

He freezes when he sees his co-lieutenant and captain standing at the end of the hall, having stepped from around the corner.

“Taicho,” He greets, every nerve ending in his body wanting to snap to attention and unable to with Sakura still slumped against his side. Both Visord’s faces are unreadable, until Kensei sighs and steps forward, uncrossing his arms from over his chest.

“Give ‘er to me.” He says, voice gruff. Hisagi blinks and tightens his hold on the woman draped against his shoulder, his second of hesitation not going unnoticed by the other two. Mashiro’s expression softens and something unreadable flickers through Kensei’s gaze, before he closes the distance between them. Gently, he takes Sakura from Hisagi, one arm going under her knees and the other around her back in a bridal carry, holding her close to his chest. She mumbles in her sleep, snuggling closer, muttering Kensei’s name on a sigh, and the expression on his captain’s face makes Hisagi’s heart squeeze.

There’s such tenderness there in the usually stoic man that Hisagi instantly knows that he’ll never hurt the woman in his arms. Not voluntarily.

“Kensei,” Mashiro starts, but he shakes his head.

“Save it for tomorrow, Mashiro.” He says. She shrugs, before turning and disappearing without another word.

Kensei turns back and regards Hisagi.

“How much did she have?” He asks. Hisagi pauses, thinking.

“I…don’t know for sure. A lot.” He finally says. Kensei frowns.

“And you didn’t think to stop her sooner?” He snaps, but there’s no heat behind it. Hisagi shrugs.

“As she continues to reiterate, she’s not my Taicho. It didn’t seem appropriate to…interrupt her.” He confesses. Kensei regards him for another moment before letting out a long winded sigh.

“She usually only drinks when she’s upset over something, especially when it’s in excess like this. I guess…you did good, keeping her out of trouble.” He says the last part gruffly, turning away from his lieutenant.

“Y-yes, Taicho.” Hisagi knows praise when he hears it, even if its said in such a round-a-bout way. Kensei tsks.

“Go to bed, already. There’s a lot to do tomorrow.” He says, before striding away.

Hisagi knows a dismissal when he hears it, too.

* * *

Kensei doesn’t really think anything of it when he gently extricates Sakura from her shihakusho before slipping one of his shirts over her head, carefully threading her arms through the sleeves before pulling a pair of his boxers up her long legs. It’s not until he’s changed himself and is settling in at her back, looping his arms around her waist in the process, does he actually start to think about the drunken conversation he’d witnessed in the hallway.

He sighs, tightening his grip on the quietly slumbering woman in his arms.

Even after everything that had happened, she still wanted to take care of them. To protect them at her own expense. That, if nothing else, proved to him that her emotions during their exile had been genuine, even if she hadn’t been entirely truthful about who she was.

For a brief moment he presses his nose into her hair, inhaling deeply, eyes squeezing tightly closed. He takes in the scent of cinnamon and spices underneath the sharp tang of alcohol and clings to it. It’s so easy to pretend that they’re back in the warehouse, curled up together on a mattress in a quiet corner, pressed together partly for warmth and partly just because they could. Because they wanted to be close. Because they lo…

He heaves another deep sigh, settling in for the night.

They’ll talk in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda a short chapter, but we got a lot in this one. 
> 
> Ugh, these two are really two of a kind. Both Sakura and Kensei both want to take care of the people they care about, even at their own expense. 
> 
> Next chapter is gonna break my heart, I just know it.


	19. With My Heart

Sakura blinks blearily, squinting against the early morning sunlight, only to find her vision filled with skin. She comes fully awake in an instant, suddenly aware of the muscled arm thrown over her waist and the fact that she’s curled into Kensei’s chest, head tucked under his chin. The familiar scent of him fills her nose and she tenses, uncertain, which causes him to shift and groan.

“I can hear you overthinking.” He grumbles into her hair.

“Sorry, but this isn’t what I was expecting.” She says, voice muffled by his sleep shirt. He huffs and tucks his head a little, cheek rasping against her forehead and his hot breath tickling her bangs.

“Not often I get one over on you.” He says, voice trying for teasing. She doesn’t relax.

“Kensei…” He lets out a heavy sigh, arm tightening around her waist.

“Do you not wanna be my girl anymore?” He asks, voice tight. She blinks against the skin of his throat, pulling back so she can get a good look at his face. His expression is unreadable, even as hers crumples.

“This isn’t about what I want, Kensei.” She reminds him. His mouth turns down at the corners and he shakes his head.

“It is, though.” He says. She frowns.

“Not really. You should be angry.” She says. He huffs again.

“And if I’m not?” He asks. She eyes him warily.

“You _should_ be.” She repeats.

“Last time I checked you didn’t get to decide how I feel.” It’s a gentle reprimand, one that makes her mouth pinch as she ducks her head.

“Okay. So…you’re not angry?” Her voice is small, fragile. He sighs again.

“I was, for about a minute. Then I remembered who I was dealing with.” Here, he lifts his free hand to her chin, using it to tilt her face back up towards his. She’s watching him with something like hope in her eyes

“So, you still wanna be my girl?” He asks softly, and it’s his turn to sound hopeful. She stares into his eyes for a minute, blinking rapidly to dispel her un-shed tears.

“If you’ll have me.” She finally says. The grin that splits across his face is blinding, lighting up his eyes in the best way. Slowly, allowing her time to draw away, he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to her mouth. When he draws away he’s still grinning.

“Babe, you are never gonna be rid of me.” He says, which startles a laugh out of her.

“I’ll hold you to that.” She smiles, leaning up to press another kiss to the corner of his mouth. His grin turns languid as he flops back against the bedspread, arm once more falling to her waist and drawing her against his chest.

“Good, sleep for a little longer, then I’m gonna feed you. Gotta make up for all that time you weren’t eating properly.” He gruffs, pressing his nose into her hair.

“Did you interrogate Hisagi?” She laughs a little, settling against him. He snorts.

“As if. Kid’s worried about you. I can’t get him to shut up about you. Just like I can’t get Mashiro to shut up about _him_.” He says. She pokes him lightly in the side, making him jump.

“Rude. All I did was look after one of your Lieutenants for you.” She points out. He grunts.

“Whatever. Sleep now, worry about Lieutenants later.” Kensei grumbles sleepily. Sakura blinks slowly, a yawn overtaking her.

“M’kay.” She says, snuggling into Kensei’s chest.

For the first time in weeks, Sakura drops off to sleep feeling safe.

* * *

She runs into Hisagi and Mashiro lurking in the hallway sometime later. Fed and well rested, she smiles indulgently at them.

“What’s up, you two?” She asks, feeling warm and content. Hisagi seems to pick up on her good mood first, a tentative smile spreading across his face.

“Just checking up on you, Taicho.” He offers her a little bow. She inclines her head to him.

“Thank you for looking after me, Hisagi-kun.” She says. He flushes a little, smile growing.

“It’s no problem, Sakura-san.” He says.

Mashiro has remained silent through their interaction, face unreadable when Sakura finally turns to her.

“Good morning, Mashiro-chan.” She greets softly, tentatively, still unsure about her reception. Mashiro’s eyes dart between her own, her face slowly melting from blank as her eyes well with tears and her lip starts to wobble.

“Sakura-chan!” She wails, flinging herself forward. Sakura catches her, surprised by Mashiro’s reaction, but she can’t help her smile as the green-haired girl starts sobbing into her shoulder. Gently, she strokes her friend’s back, humming softly.

“I missed you too, Mashiro-chan.” She says, which just makes the other woman cry harder.

That is the scene Kensei walks into a few seconds later, Sakura with a crying Mashiro in her arms, Hisagi standing awkwardly in front of them.

“Oi, what’s going on?” He asks, immediately concerned. Sakura throws him a bland look.

“Oh nothing, just comforting both of your Lieutenants for you. Such a bad Captain.” She deadpans, no real bite behind her words.

“Hey!”

* * *

Shinji doesn’t quite know what he’s expecting, but it’s not the group that arrives to the Captain’s meeting. Hisagi, Mashiro, and Kira all trail after Kensei and Sakura, who are walking side by side and chatting amicably.

Something about the way they’re interacting, attentive and familiar, makes Shinji’s spine straighten and his eyes narrow.

His suspicions are confirmed when, as the two groups move to split up, Kensei wraps an arm around Sakura’s waist and pulls her into his side, dropping a quick kiss to her cheek.

“We still on for dinner?” He asks, to which Sakura rolls her eyes.

“As if I could get out of it.” She quips at him, her irritation belied by the smile that she gives him. His answering grin is easy and warm.

“Damn right. I’ll pick you up at 7, babe.” He says, letting her go and heading for his spot between Kyoraku and Hitsugaya. Sakura moves to stand between Soi-Fon and Unohana, ignoring the stares that both of them are now receiving.

“Ugh, honestly.” Shinji groans, glaring at first Sakura and then Kensei.

“You two give me cavities.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another kinda short chapter. The next one is longer, I promise. 
> 
> I confess I really love writing Sakura and Kensei together. They fit so well, even if Sakura still feels guilty. Kensei just wants to nap and get some proper food in her. He's also going to make sure everyone knows she's his girl. There's not a lot of PDA, but what does happen is very deliberate.


	20. This is Not a Game

“I brought chess and shogi, plus a few others. What do you feel like playing?” Sakura asks, setting out the game boxes on the little table she’d unfolded. Sosuke eyes them dubiously before his one visible eye flicks up to her face.

“How in Hell did you manage to convince the Sotaicho to allow this?” He asks bluntly. Sakura’s smile turns impish as she gives him a little shrug, sitting primly on the chair she’d been provided.

“What’s the saying? It is better to beg forgiveness than ask permission. I never asked and they never said I couldn’t, so here we are.” She says, gesturing to the table. Sosuke snorts.

“Devious. Chess, then.” He says and Sakura starts setting up the board.

“White or black?” She asks him.

“White.” He answers. Her smile turns sly.

“As you wish.” She says, turning the board so that the white pieces face him.

They both stare down at their temporary battlefield for a moment, Sakura waiting on Sosuke. Finally, he hums.

“Pawn to E4.” He says. Sakura obligingly moves the indicated piece, immediately following by mirroring the move with one of her own pawns.

“Pawn to D3.” Another piece is moved and an answering move is made, pawns sliding into the center of the board.

“Bishop to G5.” Sakura hums as she moves to defend her king, her knight entering the battlefield.

They continue on like this, attacking and blocking, occasionally capturing pieces and setting them aside. His pawns fall, one by one, followed by a knight and a bishop in quick succession. Her knights both go, one she sacrifices to take his queen and the other to protect her pawns. She loses a bishop and her queen to his rooks, which he is making excellent use of, but in the aftermath she manages to slip one of her many remaining pawns to the very first row. His king, now trapped in the castle meant to protect him, is left defenseless as she swaps the small black pawn for her fallen queen, effectively ending the game.

“Checkmate.” She says, glancing over at her brother. He is frowning at the board, before his one visible eye lifts to meet hers.

“Same time next week?”

* * *

“You’re seeing Muguruma.” It’s not really an accusation and Sakura’s eyes dart up to her brother’s face.

They’re playing shogi today, the board set up on the little folding table Sakura always brings with her.

“You’ll have to be more specific. We’re both Captains, we see each other a lot.” She points out. Sosuke frowns at her, face nearly settling into a scowl.

“You know what I mean.” He says, watching as she moves a pawn to support one of her lances. He indicates where he wants her to move one of his gold generals and she huffs.

“Dick move. And I guess I do, but I’d rather hear you say it.” She says, staring down at the board as she thinks about her options. Finally, she shifts one of her knights back, effectively stopping his blockade and forcing him to regroup. This allows her to push her rook forward and promote it, flipping the piece.

Sosuke stares at her for a moment, board momentarily forgotten.

“How long have you two been together?” He asks quietly. She lifts her eyes to him, expression unreadable, but there’s warmth in her gaze.

“78 years.” She says softly. Sosuke blinks, head tilting a little.

“That’s what I hate the most, I think.” He says, voice solemn.

“What is?” She asks.

“How much I missed.” He answers, before his gaze once more falls to the board.

They continue to play in silence, until she corners his king with her promoted rook and three of her promoted pawns.

“I yield.” He says. As Sakura starts putting the pieces away, Sosuke pouts.

“I won’t get to threaten him, will I?” He asks, startling a snort out of her.

“Like you didn’t already? I’m pretty sure you’ve tried to kill him several times over, Aniki.” She chuckles, turning to him once she’s packed the pieces and board away in their box. He huffs at her.

“It’s not the same.” He laments. She outright laughs at him.

“Poor Aniki. It’s not the end of the world if you can’t intimidate my boyfriend, you know.” She says. He throws her a scathing look, one that makes her grin back at him.

“Do you love him?” He asks.

“I defended him from _you_ , Aniki.” She points out.

“But do you _love_ him?” He repeats. She rolls her eyes, getting up from her seat to stand in front of her brother.

“More than I can say.” She says softly. Sosuke holds her gaze for a moment before letting out a sigh.

“As long as you’re happy.”

* * *

She’s late.

Sosuke doesn’t have much to look forward to, here in Muken, except for Sakura’s visits. They’re how he survives the passage of time, the crawl of darkness through his soul with every tick of the clock.

He counts the days by how often he sees her and he knows that she’s late.

Time slogs on, thick like honey, until finally a shuffle alerts him to a visitor.

Sakura enters with their usual folding table, but he is instantly aware of the bruises blossoming stark across her cheek and down her neck, disappearing into the collar of her shihakusho. There are a few cuts scattered across her skin, too, the shine of healing salve visible even with only one eye.

“Sorry I took so long, I had to make a run to the living world for this.” She indicates the brightly colored box she’s holding, which she puts down on her chair while she sets up the folding table.

“Sakura,” She ignores his unasked question, instead beginning to unpack the game.

“I also needed a few other things to make this better. I mean, Guess Who is great and all, but I thought I’d make it relevant.” She continues, setting up the two halves of the board. When Sosuke looks down, it is to see pictures of members of the Gotei 13 in place of the cartoon characters that usually make up this game. His eye flicks back up to her.

“Sakura, what happened to your face?” He asks. She hums, still looking down as she shuffles a deck of pictures together.

“You should see the other guy.” She quips as she selects a photo and places it on his side of the board without looking at it. He glances down to see he’s gotten the Sotaicho.

“Sakura.” His tone is a warning and she sighs, setting her own photo in its holder on her side of the board.

“I got in a fight. It was over something stupid, but I won and that’s all that matters.” She says, not looking at him. He frowns.

“About me?” He asks. Her eyes finally flick to his and he sees resignation in their depths.

“Of course about you, Aniki.” She says, sounding sad. He blinks at her, understanding crawling under his skin. It’s uncomfortable, unpleasant, but he ignores those feelings and observes his little sister’s face a little more closely.

The youngest Royal Guard in history, a brilliant tactician, a gifted shinigami, and yet…

“I’ve made your life more difficult, haven’t I?” He asks. She shrugs.

“None of us would be here if things hadn’t gone the way they did.” She says cryptically. He opens his mouth to speak, but she shakes her head.

“Can we…can we just drop it? Please? I don’t want to think about it for a little while.” She says, eyes on the game board. He studies her for another moment before nodding slowly, eye falling to the photos laid out before him.

“Is your person an idiot?” He asks, deadpan. Her gaze flick to his, mischievous.

“That depends. Are we comparing them to a regular person or to us?” She asks.

“Us, of course.” He answers primly.

“Setting the bar a little high there, Aniki.”

* * *

“We really need a third.” Sakura says, looking down at the board. Sosuke’s one visible eyebrow rises in question.

“Why?” He asks.

“Because I wanna smoke you at poker, that’s why.” She says absentmindedly, moving one of her red pieces forward. He frowns at her.

“And what makes you think you’d win?” He asks icily. When she raises her head she’s smirking at him.

“Your poker face isn’t nearly as good as you think it is, Aniki.” She teases. He scowls at her.

“Rude.” He deadpans.

“Keep that up and I’ll persuade Shinji to do it.” She threatens.

“Now you’re just being unreasonable. Besides, there’s no way in Hell Hirako would agree to that.” He says waspishly. Sakura’s grin is downright evil as she stacks two of his black pieces on top of each other like he’d indicated.

“Yes, because it would be _so_ difficult to convince Shinji to come watch you get your ass handed to you, even if it is just a card game.” She says sarcastically. His eyes narrow and her shit eating grin widens.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Unless you want to keep losing at checkers, come up with a better idea.”

* * *

“Gin is such a little shit. A sneaky little shit, but still a little shit.” Sakura says, angrily slamming down the Go board. Sosuke’s head tilts.

“What did he do now?” He asks. Sakura sighs, seeming to deflate a little as she sets the two bowls of black and white pieces down on the table.

“It’s what he’s not doing that’s the problem, actually. Apparently, he handles guilt way worse than I do.” She says, flopping into her chair. Sosuke hums.

“4-4.” He says. Sakura sets down his stone before placing her own.

“Matsumoto Rangiku has been by the 3rd division six times in the past week, trying to talk to Gin. Each time he’s vanished and left me to deal with her, which ordinarily I wouldn’t mind.” She continues.

“16-16.” Sosuke prompts and she places the appropriate stone.

“Except she acts like I have the plague. The woman won’t even speak to me, so usually I have to get Kira to deal with her, but then she just starts crying. Ugh, it’s a huge mess.” She laments.

“Hm, 14-3. How is Kira, by the way?” Sosuke asks. Sakura snorts.

“Like you care. He’s as much of a mess as Matsumoto, but he’s not nearly as bad as Hinamori.” She says, countering his move with one of her own. Sosuke gives no indication that the mention of his former lieutenant has affected him.

“13-5. Is that so?” He asks nonchalantly. When Sakura doesn’t immediately put down his stone, he raises his eye to look at her. There’s something calculating in her eyes.

“What did you do to that girl?” She asks him quietly. Sosuke’s mouth pinches, his gaze dropping.

“I made her love me.” He explains. Sakura is still for another moment, before she shifts to place his piece and then her own.

“I don’t think you did, though. I think you might have made it easier, but you can’t force those kinds of emotions, not even with Kyoka Suigetsu.” She says. He snorts.

“13-4. Perhaps, but it’s what happened all the same.” He says. The conversation lulls as they continue to play, until the board is full and they can’t ignore each other any longer.

“Are you going to try and fix them, those lieutenants?” Sosuke asks her. Sakura lifts her head from the board and her mental tally, face inscrutable.

“Maybe. They don’t deserve what happened to them.” She says noncommittally. Sosuke hums.

“I wish you the best of luck, then.”

* * *

Kensei is waiting for her at the entrance to the underground prison, arms crossed and angry scowl firmly in place. Sakura, carrying her little folding table and an Othello box, blinks at him.

“What’s wrong?” She asks.

“It’s Gin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something of a transition chapter because we're going through the two year time skip at this point. Each new game takes place on a different day. Sakura plays for both of them, moving her brother's piece(s) where he tells her he wants them. 
> 
> In regards to Sakura's injuries: it was a fist fight, someone said something they shouldn't have, and I'll leave it up to your imagination who it was she fought with. 
> 
> And Sosuke does win. Occasionally. Rarely at chess or shogi, though, because he tends to sacrifice pawns too easily.


	21. Chances Are

When Sakura arrives at the 9th it looks like a war zone. The main office is surrounded by a glowing, pulsing barrier, dozens of members of the Executive Militia scattered around it, poised to attack. Soi-Fon is pacing in front of the gates, obviously waiting for them.

“You,” She whirls on Sakura, eyes flashing and tone accusatory, but Sakura has no patience for whatever slight the smaller woman has suffered.

“Report.” She barks, startling Soi-Fon. They stare at each other for a moment before the 2nd division Captain lifts her lip to show her teeth.

“I am taking Ichimaru Gin into custody.” She finally growls. One of Sakura’s eyebrows jumps up.

“On whose authority?” She asks cooly. Soi-Fon’s jaw ticks.

“Mine.” She snaps.

“Try again. Ichimaru Gin is under my protection.” Sakura says, her eyes narrowing dangerously. At her back Kensei remains silent, a solid wall of stoic support. Soi-Fon’s lips thin.

“He’s violated the terms of his exoneration.” She says. Sakura snorts derisively.

“I highly doubt that.” She says, before turning to Kensei. An unspoken request passes between them and he nods.

“Shinji’s already on his way. We’ll back you up. Go get your third seat.” He says, jerking his head towards the barrier. Sakura lifts up on her toes to peck him on the cheek and turns to stride towards the barrier, completely ignoring Soi-Fon.

Once she’s within touching distance of it she becomes fully aware of how static it feels, electric in a way that makes the hairs on her arms stand on end as she reaches out to gently brush her fingertips against its surface. A moment, frozen, passes where she’s not sure if it’s going to shock her or not, before a gap opens in the barrier. It quickly becomes large enough for her to pass through and she does, smiling as it snaps closed behind her.

“Exceptional work as always, Kira-kun.” She greets the blonde, who is standing on the other side of the barrier.

“Thank you, Taicho.” He says. He looks incredibly tired and Sakura resolves to get this over with quickly so she can send her lieutenant for some much needed rest.

“Now, what’s all this about?”

* * *

“You had one job, Gin.”

“I was provoked.”

“One job!”

“Five members of the 10th division ganged up on me. Five!”

“Bullshit. You were a _Captain_ , Gin, don’t tell me you couldn’t have wiped the floor with them if you so chose.”

“I thought I was supposed to not be picking fights.”

“It’s different when they start it.”

Hisagi watches the two bicker back and forth from his place guarding the door with Kira, wondering how they could be so calm considering the circumstances. Sakura is standing with her hands on her hips in front of the sofa where Gin is seated, holding an ice pack to his face.

“You said you trusted me to fight my own battles.” Gin says petulantly. Sakura sighs.

“And I do, but I also know you’re not an innocent party, even if they did start it. Soi-Fon was nearly frothing at the mouth, Gin.” She points out. The silver-haired man shrugs.

“Those 10th division members, I may or may not have said some things about their mother’s dietary habits.” He says evasively.

“Uh huh. And how did the _Captain of the 2nd division_ get involved?” She asks, sounding unimpressed. Gin glances away.

“Well, I noticed she was just standing by and not interfering in the _five against one incident_ , so I asked if maybe she might be inclined to help. She replied that she wouldn’t help a traitor.” He says.

A beat of silence.

“And?” Sakura prompts him.

“I informed her that hypocrisy doesn’t look good on anyone, especially if said someone was attempting to catch the attention of a certain _disgraced_ Shihoin.” He says with a straight face.

Sakura’s head falls into her hands with a groan and Hisagi can nearly _feel_ her frustration from all the way across the room.

“ _Gin_.” The tone of her voice would have been funny in any other situation.

“I evaded to the best of my abilities without causing undue injury to others or unnecessary property damage. The Captain of the 2nd is exceptionally fast.” Gin says. Sakura lets out a long, heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose as she screws her eyes shut.

“Soul King spare me from fragile, bruised egos. Okay, fine, whatever, we’ll handle it. Kira,” Here she turns to the blonde.

“We’re going back to the 3rd. Once we’re outside please bring down the barrier. I’ll deal with any opposition we come across, just watch our flank.” She says. He nods and waits for Gin to stand from the couch and shuffle after Sakura before following them. At the door, Sakura gives Hisagi a slightly strained smile.

“Thank you for looking after my people, Hisagi-kun.” She says.

“Anytime, Sakura-san.” He says.

“Can we go already?” Gin asks from behind her, sounding like a petulant child. Sakura throws him a glare over her shoulder.

“I’ll be dealing with you once I’ve gotten Soi-Fon straightened out. Don’t think I don’t know _exactly_ what all this is really about. Or who. It’s no coincidence that the ones who attacked you were from the 10th. I am making you talk to Matsumoto whether you want to or not, even if I have to lock you two in the same room to do it.” She snaps. Gin’s shoulders slump.

“But Taicho…” He whines and Sakura shakes her head.

“Get it over with, Gin. Better that than to let it fester like a never healing wound. Let’s go.” She turns sharply on her heal and exits the office, trailed by Gin and Kira.

* * *

Sakura ducks under his punch, coming up under his guard and bringing her shin up into his ribs with enough force to make him stagger. He wipes the sweat from his eyes and comes at her again, fists still swinging.

Again, she ducks, but this time she wraps her hand around his wrist and turns into his body. She plants her feet and twists, using his own momentum to throw him easily over her shoulder.

He hits the mat with a loud thud, all the air forced from his lungs at the impact.

When he blinks his eyes open a second later, Sakura is standing over him with her hands on her hips, frowning down at him.

“Alright, Kensei, what the _actual fuck_?” She snaps. He just keeps blinking up at her, still a little dazed. Her gaze doesn’t waver and he finally has to look away.

“It’s nothin’.” He tries, but by the way her frown deepens into a scowl he knows he’s not getting off that easily.

“Try again. You’ve been spacing out since yesterday.” She says.

And therein lies his problem, because truthfully, Kensei had been uncomfortably turned on as he’d watched Sakura deal with Soi-Fon the day before and had been unable to think of anything else since then.

It was part diplomacy, part scathing rebuttal, and part masterful manipulation. Sakura had always had a certain way with words, but watching her verbally back the 2nd division Captain into a corner was something else.

In the end, Soi-Fon was still fuming, but had been placated enough to drop the matter. As they’d watched her disappear with the rest of the Executive Militia Kensei had kept his arms firmly folded over his chest, afraid he’d grab Sakura in public and embarrass himself if he didn’t.

Though he’s doing a fine job of embarrassing himself right now.

“I told you it’s nothin’. Just drop it.” He snaps, trying to get to his feet, only to find them swept out from under him.

He hits the mat again, but this time there’s a hundred and forty pounds of pissed off 3rd division Captain sitting on his abdomen, holding him down.

“Bull. Shit. Something’s obviously on your mind. What’s bothering you?” Sakura asks, then something like uncertainty flits across her face and she draws back a little. Kensei already knows what’s wrong, can read her insecurity on her face as clear as day, and sighs, body sagging.

Before she can question him farther he reaches out and yanks her down by her arms, making her sprawl against his chest.

“It’s really nothin’. Just…thinking about how you dealt with Soi-Fon kinda, you know…” He trails off, going pink around the ears and suddenly very glad that they’re in one of the private dojos. Sakura blinks at him, processing his words. Then her own face goes a little pink, the flush staining the apples of her cheeks and working its way down her neck.

“Oh.” It’s said on a breath, almost like it’s been punched out of her, and that noise is certainly not helping him in the least.

Then, a sly grin slips across her face and he feels a sense of resignation settle in the pit of his stomach.

“Alright, big guy. Why don’t we get cleaned up and head out? I’ll even boss you around a little, since you seem to like it so much.” She teases him. He scowls at her.

“Shut up.” He grumbles. She giggles at him and pokes him in the chest. In retaliation he wraps his arms around her waist, setting his fingers against her ribs and tickling her relentlessly. She squirms away from him and leaps to her feet, still laughing. In that moment, she nearly glows with her happiness and Kensei is struck by the warmth that floods his chest.

She extends a hand to him and, after a second of just watching her, he takes it, letting her help him to his feet.

“Let’s go home.” She says.

He likes the sound of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sakura may look younger than him, but Gin is technically the younger of the two. They act more like siblings than anything else, actually, which I'm sure grates on Sosuke something fierce.


	22. Once More, With Feeling

“See, that’s what I miss most about being a Captain.” Gin says, leaning over her desk.

“What is?” Sakura asks him, turning her left hand back and forth to get a better look at the bracelet around her wrist.

“The salary.” He replies. From the Lieutenant’s desk Kira starts coughing, the sound suspiciously similar to laughter, glancing in their direction briefly before getting back to work. Sakura hums, fingers gently tracing the silvery bangle, etched with a simple swirling design. It’s quite beautiful, if understated, but that’s because…

“It’s solid platinum, right? Muguruma-taicho must have spent a fortune on it. But then again it is your 80th anniversary.” Gin muses, reaching out to poke her wrist. Sakura swats at him, irritation belied by her smile.

“Don’t you have work to do?” She asks.

“Right. See you later, Taicho.” He says breezily, waving as he saunters out the door. As soon as he’s gone Sakura turns to Kira.

“Why don’t you head home, Kira-kun?” She asks him. He looks up at her with a furrowed brow and a frown.

“But…my work’s not done.” He points out. Sakura’s smile turns indulgent.

“That’s fine. Go get some rest, Kira-kun, go out with your friends, have a little fun. I’m sure Hisagi-kun will have the afternoon off.” She says, making a shooing motion towards the door. Kira, apparently catching on, nods.

“Ah, that’s right. Muguruma-taicho is cooking a special dinner, isn’t he?” He asks. Sakura chuckles and places a finger against her lips.

“Shh, I’m not supposed to know about that.” She warns him. He returns her smile, shuffling the stacks of documents on his desk into four distinct piles.

“All right. I’ll see you tomorrow, Taicho.” He says, waving as he stands and heads for the door.

“Have a good evening, Kira-kun.”

* * *

As she steps through the door to the 9th’s Captain’s quarters she inhales deeply, the rich scent of food hanging heavy in the air.

“I’m home.” She calls as she toes off her sandals, slipping her haori off her shoulders and folding it neatly before stashing it in the hall closet, right on top of Kensei’s. A shuffle from the direction of the kitchen announces Kensei’s arrival from around the corner. He’s frowning at her, brow furrowed.

“You’re back early.” He says, sounding slightly disappointed. Sakura hesitates and blinks at him.

“I’m sorry? I got everything done and sent everyone home. I figured we could spend some time together? We’ve both been pretty busy lately, but I can come back later.” She says, glancing back at the door and wondering if she’ll have to go all the way back to the 3rd now. Kensei’s face softens and he shakes his head.

“No no, c’mere. I didn’t mean it like that.” He says gruffly, walking up to her and wrapping his arms around her in a hug.

“I at least wanted to pretend to surprise you with dinner, is all.” He says. She giggles and rises up on her tip toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“You do the same thing every year, it’s not like I don’t know what’s going to happen at this point. Though the present was a nice touch.” She smiles at him and Kensei draws back to see the glint of silver at her wrist where it’s placed against his chest.

“Good to see Hisagi made it. I would have given it to you this morning but you left early.” He says, tone bordering on accusing. Sakura smiles sheepishly.

“I wanted to get all my work done so I could leave early.” She admits. He sighs, arms tightening around her waist, and drops his head to her shoulder.

“We’re two of a kind, aren’t we?” He asks, voice slightly muffled by the fabric of her uniform. She laughs.

“Definitely. In fact, I have something for you, too.” She says. Kensei lifts his head to see her reaching into her uniform. She pulls out a small pouch and hands it to him. He takes it from her, carefully upending the bag onto his palm. A thin, woven bracelet falls out, made from silver and green threads that shimmer and glint softly. The meandros design is very similar to the one etched on her own band. He sucks in a breath, recognizing the distinct reiatsu that saturates the gift.

“You made this?” He asks, voice tight. Sakura smiles, a little uncertain.

“From my threads, yes. I know it’s a little weird, but…” She doesn’t get to finish as Kensei crushes her against his chest, mouth falling agains hers in a heady kiss. When he draws away she blinks a little dazedly at him.

“You like it?” She asks unnecessarily. He laughs.

“Yeah, it’s perfect. Though I can’t help wondering at the fact we both got each other bracelets.” He says. She hums, helping him fasten his gift around his left wrist.

“Like minds, right?” He hums and drops another kiss against her mouth before drawing reluctantly away.

“Come on, food should be done soon.” He says, leading her towards the kitchen, but there’s suddenly a loud, frantic banging on the door. They both turn as one, wondering who would disturb them.

When Kensei answers, there’s a member of the Inner Court Troop kneeling on his doorstep, looking haggard.

“What is it?” Kensei snaps, obviously annoyed at being interrupted.

“The Sotaicho has called all Captains and Lieutenants to the 1st division.” The man replies.

“What for?” Sakura asks, moving to stand beside Kensei. The messenger hesitates for a second before answering.

“A funeral.” Both Captains tense at that, suddenly on high alert.

“Whose?” Sakura demands.

“1st division Lieutenant Sasakibe Chojiro."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are officially starting the Thousand Year Blood War arc. Spoilers ahoy, though I'll try and keep them to a minimum. 
> 
> A meandros or meander pattern, recognized more commonly as the Greek Key, is a decorative border comprised of a single, unbroken line that is shaped into a repeated motif, most often interlocking right-angled spirals.


	23. Awaken the Fallen

Sakura staggers, a sharp exhale of breath rattling out from her lungs as she feels Kira’s reiatsu waver, flutter, and then vanish. She blinks, mouth suddenly dry as the enormity of the situation crashes down on her.

She had felt it, every time a shinigami had lost their life, the little flames of their reiatsu flickering out one after another, but to feel Kira’s go so _suddenly_ …

She blinks again, then lifts her eyes to the tall, skinny man standing across from her.

“Doesn’t sound like good news. Did someone die?” He asks. Her eyes narrow.

“Do I really need to answer that?” She snaps. The man sneers at her.

“Yes, you do. The area where that spiritual pressure just disappeared is where Busby’s at. If they ain’t dead, then he’s made a mistake.” He says. Sakura’s top lip peels back to show her teeth.

“You’re an arrogant piece of shit, aren’t you?” She asks. The man grins.

“NaNaNa Najahkoop, Sternritter ‘U’ - The Underbelly.” He places one hand over his chest as he introduces himself.

“Aizen Sakura, Captain of 3rd company. I don’t know what you’ve done, but if Kira is really dead then I’m going to take my pound of flesh out of your scrawny ass.” She snarls, twirling Ouroboros in one hand as she lunges.

* * *

She can’t explain it.

She’d been about to deliver the finishing blow to her opponent when he’d suddenly run away. She’d been left standing on the battlefield alone, surrounded by fallen Shinigami.

Then, as fire had lit up the sky in the distance, a strange feeling had washed over her. It’s like a prickling under her skin, a headache without any pain, a twisting feeling in her chest that just won’t subside.

Sakura blinks, swaying a little as her fingers go slack around Ouroboros’s hilt, nearly dropping it. She shoves it back into its sheath with a clumsy hand and shakes her head, trying to dispel the feeling, but it only grows stronger.

She screws her eyes shut, willing the feeling away, but then there’s suddenly heat on her skin and her eyes snap open to see a desolate wasteland of ashes laid before her.

Somehow, she’s made her way to the Sotaicho’s battleground, without conscious thought or any memory of doing so. A man lays on the rubble, one hand outstretched towards the heavens but she knows, somehow, that the face he wears is a mask. As the rain starts to fall and soak the earth, she feels her heart stutter in her chest.

She can’t draw breath properly, her legs giving out and she sinks to her knees. She can’t call out, can’t even blink as the 1st division barracks erupt in an explosion that would have knocked her off her feet had she been standing.

She can only watch as the same man laid out on the ground appears behind the Captain Commander, his very presence overwhelming in its intensity. Even when Yhwach mentions meeting and speaking with her brother she doesn’t flinch, because at this point she can’t even twitch a finger.

She is helpless as he wields his sword against the Sotaicho, the blade cleaving the old man in two. Her throat works, but she can’t scream, even as Yhwach obliterates the corpse, face disturbingly calm.

As he stands over the smoking pile of ashes his head tilts, just a little, and she knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that he is suddenly aware of her. As he turns her muscles start to tremble, but she is still trapped and immobile, unable to do anything as he moves towards her.

She’s expecting the same treatment as Yamamoto, the raising of a sword, the fire of an attack as it licks across her skin, but instead the dark haired man stands over her for a moment, simply staring down at her. Then, to her great shock, he slowly lowers himself to his knees before her, his hands coming down to cup her face, cradling it gently between his palms.

“Ah, My Fate, how I have longed to see you.” He murmurs, his voice sending a shiver down her spine, the sensation akin to having a blade pressed against her throat.

“A thousand lifetimes I have searched for you, waiting for you.” He continues and all Sakura wants to do is draw away, to run and hide because everything about this man sets her teeth on edge.

“You were born for me.” That derails her train of thought because there is certainty in his tone, conviction in his words.

“Your Majesty.” The blonde man who had been standing by now approaches, also looking down at her.

“We’re taking My Fate with us, Haschwalth.” Yhwach says and Sakura feels her stomach twist, even as his hands fall from around her face.

Then the sky is lit up with a great explosion and Sakura can breath again.

She moves without conscious thought, landing beside the place where the Sotaicho had fallen. There’s nothing left of his body, but she snatches up the shattered pieces of his zanpakuto, cradling them to her chest as she turns wide, panicked eyes on Yhwach.

He’s just watching her, face unreadable, and she shivers again.

Then, without a backwards glance, she turns tail and flees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Answers will be forthcoming.


	24. The Vanitas

Shinji heads him off at the door, looking far more haggard than he should with his limited injuries.

“Shinji, what…” Kensei begins, but the blonde shakes his head.

“Shut up and listen. Something happened to Sakura-chan.” He says. Kensei feels ice flood his insides, dread settling like a lead weight in his stomach.

“Is she okay? Where is she? How bad is it?” He demands, one hand unconsciously going to his left wrist, where the woven band she gave him rests.

“Calm down. Physically, she’s fine.” Shinji says. Kensei blinks, registering the careful wording before he frowns.

“And mentally?” He asks. Shinji’s mouth pinches and he shrugs.

“We don’t quite know for sure. She hasn’t spoken a word since she came to the 1st with the pieces of old man Yama’s zanpakuto. A team from the Onmitsukido did a sweep of the battlefield and confirmed that there was no body to recover. But, according to Ichigo, Sakura was leaving as he was arriving.” He explains.

“What are you saying?” Kensei asks, not liking the implications of Shinji’s words.

“I’m saying that something happened on that battlefield, something that scared _Sakura_ enough to run.” He says.

Kensei’s fist connects with the wall beside Shinji’s head and he starts, staring up at his colleague and long-time friend with wide eyes.

“You shut your mouth. Sakura would _never_ run from a fight. She’s no coward.” Kensei snarls, but his rage is derailed when Shinji meets his eyes calmly.

“But she _did_ , Kensei.” He says. Kensei blinks before turning on his heel and stomping away.

Shinji trails after him as he barges through the doors of the meeting room. The scattering of Captains look up at his entrance, but he only has eyes for Sakura.

She’s standing by the table where they’ve laid Yamamoto’s zanpakuto, staring blankly off into space. Kensei notes that, apart from mussed hair and a few bruises, she appears fine, but she doesn’t so much as twitch as he makes his way over.

“Sakura,” She doesn’t acknowledge him, doesn’t even indicate that she’s heard him, so he reaches out to touch her shoulder. He’s barely brushed his fingers against her uniform when she tenses, whirling on him and lashing out. He catches her fist before it can connect with his face, surprised despite himself as he takes her in.

Her eyes are too wide, her face too pale as she stares up at him, eyes unfocused in such a way that he knows she’s not really seeing him. He feels his heart squeeze and lets her go before cautiously reaching for her again.

“Sakura, it’s me.” It’s a plea on his lips as his hand hovers over her upper arm. She flinches when he makes contact again, blinking rapidly as her eyes slide in and out of focus.

Then she seems to come back to herself, eyes focusing on his face as she lets out a long breath.

“Kensei,” He’s never heard her sound so small before, not even after the incident with her brother. Slowly, carefully, he pulls her into his chest. She turns her face and buries it in his neck, breath shaky.

“I’ve got you.” He says into her hair, feeling her small hands reach up and fist in his uniform so tightly that the fabric starts to tear.

The doors creak open again and Soi-Fon enters. She stops in her tracks when she sees the table and the remnants of Yamamoto’s zanpakuto, face crumpling into something like grief. Then, her eyes fall on Kensei, holding Sakura to his chest, and her gaze hardens in an instant.

“You!” She’s flying towards them, intercepted by Shinji who catches her around the shoulders, but she ignores him completely as she continues to yell around him.

“You should have done something! You should have protected him!” She yells, tears gathering in her eyes. Kensei feels Sakura flinch in his arms and growls wordlessly at the 2nd division Captain, but she just plows on.

“You should have been the one who died!” She screams.

“That’s enough, Soi-Fon!” Komamura’s voice suddenly booms, making them all jump.

“Do you think that you are the only one consumed by rage right now? Do not take your grief out on others!” The much larger wolf-man snaps, teeth bared in a menacing snarl.

“Ok ok ok. Everyone to their neutral corners, please.” Kyoraku interrupts with a clap of his hands.

As he goes on about the reason for the Gotei 13’s existence, Kensei feels Sakura shiver against him and tightens his grip on her.

He has no idea what happened out on that battlefield, but the normally level headed Sakura is shaken beyond anything he’s ever seen, which is more than enough to frighten him.

He just wishes he could protect her from whatever it is that’s coming for them.

* * *

Sakura feels sick, achy and cold, like she has the flu. Kensei stands at her side, close enough to touch, but she can’t bring herself to close the distance.

But as the Tenchuren appears in the sky, falling at dizzying speeds towards the ground, she blinks her eyes and straightens her back. She refuses to appear weak in front of her former division.

What she’s not expecting is for Nimaiya to squeeze himself out of the doors before they’re fully open and fling himself at her. Before he can make contact, however, there are arms going around her waist and she’s being hoisted out of the way, Kensei hefting her up against his chest as he takes a step back and bares his teeth in a clear warning. Behind him Shinji is tense, one hand on the hilt of his zanpakuto as Nimaiya sails past them, skidding to a halt with a surprised look plastered across his face.

Sakura gently pats one of the arms Kensei has wrapped around her waist.

“It’s okay, Kensei, Shinji.” She assures them. The blonde takes a slow step back while the silver haired man frowns at her, but finally sets her back on her feet. She turns to him and gives him a strained smile.

“Kensei, this is Nimaiya Oetsu, the man who raised me. Nimaiya, this is Muguruma Kensei.” She introduces them.

“Your boo, right? It’s great to finally meet you, dude.” Nimaiya grins and walks up to Kensei with his hand outstretched. They share a very tense handshake before Nimaiya disengages and wraps an arm around Sakura’s shoulder, pulling her into his side.

“I missed you, Sakura-chan.” He says warmly. All she can do is give him another strained smile as Hyosube addresses the other gathered Captains and Ichigo.

She isn’t particularly surprised when Senjumaru appears with her suspension orbs, but she is taken aback when Ichibe turns to her.

“You are coming as well, Aizen Sakura.” He says. She frowns at him.

“Why? I wasn’t severely injured and my zanpakuto requires no repairs.” She points out. Hyosube shakes his head.

“Your presence has been requested by the Soul King.” He says. Her eyes narrow, but she nods slowly.

“All right.”

As she moves to follow Nimaiya towards the other Royal Guards a hand closes around her wrist, drawing her up short.

She glances back at Kensei. Completely ignoring their audience he leans down and kisses her, his hands cupping her face. It’s a long, slow kiss, the kind they share when they’re alone, away from prying eyes. The sudden public display of affection is uncharacteristic of Kensei, who is a fiercely private person, but not unwelcome as Sakura slowly kisses him back.

When they draw away there’s understanding in both their eyes. Kensei drops his forehead against hers and sighs.

“Come back to me, you hear?” He says. She smiles at him, the expression warmer than it’s been for the past two days.

“I will. Stay safe.” She tells him. They stay like that for a few more seconds before Sakura has to take a step back and Kensei lets his arms drop.

Another moment passes between them, reassurance and comfort, before Sakura turns away to join the Royal Guard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vanitas are symbolic works of art showing the transience of life, the futility of pleasure, and the certainty of death, often contrasting symbols of wealth and symbols of ephemerality and death. 
> 
> The word itself means 'futility' or 'worthlessness', that is, the pointlessness of earthly goods and pursuits. This alludes to a phrase in the King James Bible: 'Vanitas vanitatum omnia vanitas', translated as 'Vanity of vanities, all is vanity'. 
> 
> (Thank you Wikipedia)
> 
> The Tenchuren, or Heavenly Pillar, is a building sized pillar structure that is dropped from the Soul King's palace as a form of transportation for members of the Zero Division. It cannot return to the Soul King's palace without assistance, however, often provided by Kūkaku Shiba's cannon.


	25. Shatter Point

“You look like shit, brat.”

“And you’re as hideous as always, Kirinji.”

“Why you…”

“Enough.” Hyosube interrupts them, frowning down at them both. Sakura doesn’t bat an eyelash but Kirinji turns away with a huff, scowling into the distance.

Ichigo, who is still looking around the landing platform, taps Sakura on the arm.

“You really grew up here, Sakura-san?” He asks. She blinks at him.

“That’s right. I was raised by the other members, though Hikifune arrived after I’d left for the Soul Society.” She answers.

“Wait, then what Hyosube-san said about the Oken being inside the bodies of the members of the Royal Guard, does that mean you still have yours?” Ichigo asks.

“Of course. The Oken is not something that can be nullified, even by the Soul King, but I’ve always…” Here she trails off, something like comprehension flitting across her face. Ichigo, apparently missing her shift in mood, opens his mouth to ask another question but is interrupted by Kirinji and Hikifune.

As he moves to stand where they ask him to, he turns to Sakura.

“I’ll see you later, I guess.” He says. Her smile is wry.

“I suppose so. Good luck, Kurosaki Ichigo.” She says.

* * *

“So, are you going to tell me the real reason I’m here?” Sakura asks once the injured have been transported and Kirinji has followed them to his Kirin Palace.

When she turns to face the four remaining members Nimaiya won’t meet her eyes and Senjumaru just looks sad. Hikifune has a blank expression on her face, but Hyosube meets her gaze head on.

“You’ve always been too smart for your own good.” He says. Sakura’s smile is humorless, spreading across her face like a serpent slipping through grass.

“Perhaps, but my intellect has served me well so far. Now, am I going to get my answers from you, or are you going to force me to go directly to the source?” She threatens. Hyosube’s eyes narrow.

“Such arrogance.” He snarls and Sakura sneers at him.

“Did you expect me to turn out any different? I did learn from _you_ , Monk.” She says.

A few moments pass before the animosity drains from Sakura’s face, replaced by cold calculation.

“I’m not a normal soul, am I?” She asks. Hyosube doesn’t respond and she continues.

“After all, normal souls aren’t born with the Oken already implanted in their bodies, are they?”

At her words Hyosube lets out a heavy sigh, shoulders sagging a little.

“So troublesome. No, you are not a normal soul. You were ‘forged’ by the Soul King.” He says. Sakura’s brow furrows.

“Forged?” She asks.

“Yes. Normally souls recycle from the Soul Society to the Living world and back again through the life cycle. Some of them become Hollows that go to Hueco Mundo before eventually being purified by Shinigami and returned to the Soul Society. The cycle remains constant through this continual shuffling of souls from one world to another.” He clarifies.

“I’m aware of the cycle.” Sakura snaps. Hyosube frowns at her.

“Anyway, new souls can only come about one of two ways. The most common is that two pre-existing souls in the Soul Society come together and give birth to a child. The second is far more rare. The Soul King, on top of regulating the flow of souls, can make or forge new ones. Often they are made of fractured particles of reishi and dying or broken souls, but the Soul King can also take pieces of himself and shape them into new souls. Guess which of these two processes makes the stronger type?” Hyosube explains.

Sakura eyes narrow.

“So, he forged me from a piece of himself. Fine. How was I born in the Rukongai, then?” She asks.

“Implanting you into your mother’s womb and allowing you to be ‘born’ naturally helped make your soul much more stable. If the Soul King had simply brought you into existence the shock would have shattered you.” Says Hyosube.

Sakura’s brow is furrowed, her gaze calculating as she watches them with a newfound wariness.

“That’s why you took me at such a young age, isn’t it? I already had the Oken implanted in my bones and that posed a threat if the wrong person got their hands on me first.” She says slowly. Hyosube’s grim expression is answer enough and Sakura frowns.

“That still doesn’t tell me why. Why was I made this way? Why did you forbid me from contacting my brother? Why did you pretend for all this time? Why did Yhwach call me his ‘fate’?” She asks. Hyosube folds his arms across his chest and sighs again.

“We forbade you from contacting your brother because history needed to take its natural course.” He says simply. Sakura blinks, sure she’d misheard, and then her eyes widen as she takes a step back.

“Take its course? You mean you knew, all this time, what was going to happen?” She asks, incredulous.

“We did. The Soul King’s orders were quite clear. Certain events needed to happen as they were meant to.” Says Hyosube.

Sakura feels as if her mouth has gone dry, throat working as she swallows the bile threatening to force its way up.

“So all the people who died, all the pain and suffering that happened, the Visored being hollowfied, Tosen Kaname’s death, Gin’s guilt, you knew that it was going to happen and you did _nothing_?” She asks, voice rising as her accusations fly.

“Yes.” Hyosube looks entirely unrepentant and Sakura feels her skin crawl, lips peeling back in a snarl.

“How could you? Hiyori-chan and the others, they all nearly died. They all suffered so much, and for what? What the hell could be so important that you would risk so much collateral damage?” Sakura is shouting now, her anger bubbling up inside her chest like lava, hot and acrid and burning.

“Because if events did not turn out as they were meant to, then you would not be able to fulfill your purpose.” Hyosube answers her. Sakura blinks, anger subsiding for a moment as his comment catches up to her.

“My purpose?” She parrots.

“Yes, because you were born, no, you were _made_ for one, single goal.” Hyosube says.

“Which is?” Sakura croaks.

“You were made to destroy the one known as Yhwach.” Hyosube informs her.

Sakura swallows again, eyes flitting across the other members of the Guard. Nimaiya’s face is turned away, as is Hikifune’s, but Senjumaru continues to watch her with her sad, downturned eyes.

“You knew about this, too. About Yhwach and his Sternritter, the invasion, everything. _You knew and you did nothing_.” Her horror is absolute, the thought of all those who died rattling around inside her head as she takes another shaky step backwards. Kira’s death is a lead weight in her chest, heavy with understanding.

Hyosube’s mouth turns down at the corners as he reaches for his brush, hefting it in his hands. Sakura bristles, fingers itching to reach for her own zanpakuto.

“Why did you bring me here?” She asks, because she knows without a shadow of a doubt that the Soul King did _not_ request her presence, despite Hyosube’s words. The monk regards her with a blank expression.

“Because there is one more event that must come to pass before the final battle can take place.” He answers.

Sakura’s brow furrows as she tries to parse his words.

“And just what is that?” She asks, right hand inching closer and closer towards her left hip.

“It is something that will shake you to your very core, the final preparation you will need to face a man as heartless as Yhwach.” Hyosube replies.

Sakura blinks, trying to think of something that could do as the monk claimed. The precise wording about Yhwach’s heart strikes her as odd and suddenly a face flashes before her eyes, silver hair and warm brown eyes and a wry smile.

Ice floods her insides as her breath leaves her in a hiss. She feels like she’s been punched, her lungs unable to draw a proper breath as her eyes widen in complete, abject terror.

“No.” It’s barely a whisper, but that one word takes hold of her heart and she seizes on it at the same time that the monk moves.

She evades the strike from his brush and leaps back, racing for the edge of the platform. If she can reach it in time, if she can get back to Soul Society…

But her forward momentum is suddenly halted as she feels her limbs grow impossibly heavy. Staggering, she falls to her knees, unable to even lift her head as her movements become sluggish. Lethargy tugs at her mind, shadows creeping in at the corners of her vision.

The last thing she’s aware of before the darkness swallows her completely is Nimaiya’s remorseful face and sorrowful eyes.

“I’m sorry, Sakura-chan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the beginning of the end. 
> 
> This story is probably going to be around 30 or so chapters long, by the looks of it. Anyway, I promised answers and here are some of them.
> 
> For those caught up with the manga, y'all know what's coming. But I swear there's a happy ending. Pinky promise.


	26. In The Eyes Of Fate

The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out  
You left me in the dark  
No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight  
In the shadow of your heart

\- Cosmic Love, Florence + The Machine

* * *

It’s like when you fall in a dream, you always wake up with a jolt right before you hit the ground. This is a little like that, except Sakura doesn’t remember falling. All she is aware of is waking up, suddenly, painfully, sucking in air as if she’d been drowning. Her lungs burn, tears stinging her eyes as she coughs, chest heaving as she struggles to draw her next breath.

The second thing she is aware of is Nimaiya leaning over her, concern written clearly across his face.

But Sakura’s memories have suffered no ill effects and she bares her teeth at him, swatting at his hand as he extends it to help her up. He flinches but takes a step back, allowing her to clamber to her feet on her own. She’s glaring at him, tears still thick at the corners of her eyes. They stare at each other, tense.

“Why?” She finally croaks. Nimaiya’s face crumples, grief stamped clearly in the creases around his eyes and mouth.

“I’m sorry, Sakura-chan.” He says and she’s really tired of hearing those words, repeated over and over again like an attempted absolution.

“No, you’re not. You knew when you met him what was going to happen and yet you did nothing. How _could_ you?” Her tone is accusatory, cracking with emotion. Nimaiya has never, in all the decades she’s known him, ever looked so miserable.

“It’s too late, Sakura-chan.” He says quietly. She sucks in her next breath, head jerking up. Her right hand drops, grip tight around the silver bangle around her left wrist.

Slowly, she glances around, only to find herself back in the Hooden. There is no sign of the zanpakuto spirits Nimaiya usually surrounds himself with.

“Where are Ichigo and the other Shinigami?” She asks.

“They’ve already been sent back.” He answers her. Her jaw works as her teeth clench.

Turning sharply on her heel, she heads for the door. Once outside the tiny shack she steps up to the edge of the cliff, looking down at the endless expanse of sky laid out beneath her.

She straightens her shoulders, but doesn’t turn to Nimaiya, who has followed her.

“I’ll be back.” She tells him and then steps out into empty space.

* * *

“What is the meaning of this?”

Shinji flinches, having dreaded hearing that voice ever since he followed Kurotsuchi to find Kensei, Matsumoto, and Hitsugaya being controlled like puppets by that creepy little girl, GiGi. Then Kuchiki had gotten involved and Kurotsuchi had started going on about how they were ‘his zombies now’ and he really doesn’t want to unpack any of this. Not now, not ever.

But, despite his misgivings, he turns slowly to look over his shoulder, eyes finding Sakura where she stands atop the rubble.

She’s not looking at him, though, but at Kensei. Slowly, oh so slowly, she makes her way towards them, bypassing himself and the other Captains without so much as a glance and coming to a stop right in front of the silver haired Visored.

Gently, she reaches up to cup Kensei’s face in her hands, but there’s no reaction. He doesn’t so much as twitch at the contact, eyes blank white and unseeing, the black markings tainting his reddened skin reminiscent of his hollow form.

“Who did this?” She asks no one in particular, voice an icy crawl up Shinji’s spine.

“Hm, to what are you referring?” Kurotsuchi asks. Shinji hisses at him, a warning the other man completely ignores.

“The initial zombification was due to that girl over there, but the secondary control is my own creation.” The scientist continues, indicating GiGi’s corpse before gesturing to himself.

“Is that so?” Shinji shivers, taking an involuntary step back. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard such a tone come from Sakura and, coupled with the killing intent starting to leak into her reiatsu, he thinks he might just cut his losses, grab Momo, and bolt.

“And can the process be reversed?” Sakura still hasn’t turned around to look at them.

“Potentially. It would probably come at great personal cost to the one restored, most likely a significant shortening of their lifespan, but not doubt they will not complain.” Kurotsuchi hums thoughtfully.

“I see.” Shinji takes another step backwards, putting himself directly between Momo and Sakura’s mounting, fluctuating reiatsu.

“I’m sorry, Shinji, but there is no place you can run where it will not reach you.” The blonde starts at being so suddenly addressed.

“What will?” He asks, uncertain.

“I’ll show you. After all, I am quite _done_ with this farce of a war.” Sakura’s right hand falls from Kensei’s face to her left hip and the hilt of her zanpakuto.

“Bankai.”

* * *

Her rage is a physical thing, flickering green flames that lick across the ground and flutter through the air on currents of her reiatsu. Shinji can feel the heat of the flames crackle along his skin, his legs having given out at the first onset, the spiritual pressure just too much to bear. He notices, distantly, that as the fire spreads across the ground he can see the familiar architecture of the Seireitai through the flames. But he is much more interested in what is going on down below him.

Kensei was engulfed when the flames appeared, though he appears no worse for wear, but Shinji sucks in a breath when he catches sight of the figure standing before his friend where Sakura once was.

The intricate kimono is dozens of layers thick, dragging along the ground behind her, though her feet are bare. Her skin has turned an unnatural, ghostly white, save for her hands, which look as if they’ve been dipped in ink. Her hair has lengthened until it trails along the ground with her kimono, glowing with an unearthly silvery-white light. She tilts her face, just a little, and Shinji feels all the air leave his lungs.

Her eyes are completely black, from lid to lid, fathomless in their intensity.

Slowly, Sakura turns, those black eyes lifting until she seems to focus on the distance. Shinji turns his head until he can just make out the pillar of light emanating from the enemy’s stronghold, the one that Ichigo had made a run for in order to stop Yhwach from entering the Soul King’s palace.

Sakura raises her hand, index finger outstretched, and points at the pillar. A heartbeat follows where nothing happens, but then it shatters, raining fragments of crystalline light down on the gathered forces below.

A shriek makes Shinji turn sharply, eyes falling on GiGi. Apparently, she’d been playing dead, splayed out on the ground, but where the green fire has touched her her skin is blackened and blistering. The girl struggles, staggering to her feet, but none of her efforts to put out the flames work. Instead, it just continues to spread, slowly crawling across her flesh until she’s completely engulfed. Through it all her screams of agony increase in pitch and volume until quite suddenly, they cut off in a choking, rattling gasp. Her body remains standing for another few seconds until it crumbles into ashes, the fire finally dissipating.

Shinji swallows and glances around at the green fire still licking along the ground, growing ever closer. He gathers Momo close to his side as he prepares to flee, but is drawn up short.

“You have nothing to fear, Hirako Shinji.” The voice that comes from Sakura’s throat is strange, distorted, as if a thousand voices have been overlaid one on top of the other. He swallows thickly.

“What the hell’s going on, Sakura-chan?” He asks, his own voice wavering.

“Show proper respect, boy.” A deep voice echoes from behind him. Shinji stills, eyes darting back to find the imposing figure of Yhwach standing amidst the rubble. The man’s eyes are fixed on Sakura, unwavering.

“That is no longer Aizen Sakura, but an aspect of Destiny. She is the Unmei no Tensai, the Heavenly Weaver of Fate.” He continues. Shinji swallows again, turning back to Sakura, who has herself turned to face Yhwach. Slowly, the flickering flames subside, fading until all that remains is the overwhelming pressure of her reiatsu.

Then the Sternritter fall from the sky.

Their weapons are drawn, their faces intent as they attack as one, and Shinji opens his mouth to shout a warning. Before he can speak or they can touch her, however, Sakura lifts her head, black eyes wide.

And the Sternritter disintegrate.

Shinji feels his gut twist as skin and muscle and bone peel back and turn to dust before his very eyes, bodies that had a second earlier been living, breathing people reduced to ashes in an instant.

Yhwach remains unfazed, instead frowning in disapproval.

“Fools, that’s what they get for interfering.” He says dismissively, slowly drawing his sword.

“My Fate, will you truly oppose me? You, who were born for me?” He asks her. Sakura doesn’t answer and he lifts his blade, leveling it at her.

“So be it.” He says, and attacks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sakura isn't the type to make promises she can't keep.


	27. Strings of Fate

And in the dark, I can hear your heartbeat  
I tried to find the sound  
But then it stopped, and I was in the darkness,  
So darkness I became 

\- Cosmic Love, Florence + The Machine

* * *

Ever since she could remember, Sakura could see them. In fact, her very first memory is of reaching out to grasp at them, fascinated by the glowing strands of light, like the trailing tails of shooting stars. Her fingers had gone straight through them at the time and she’d wondered briefly about that, but such thoughts had soon been shoved aside for more immediate concerns.

As she’d grown older she’d quickly learned to identify individuals by their strings. First her brother, then Nimaiya, followed by Kensei and the other Visored.

She’d started putting the pieces together when she’d first learned her zanpakuto’s name, surrounded by the Asauchi in the Hooden. From the way Nimaiya spoke, the descriptions he gave, she knew hers was no ordinary power. That had only been confirmed when she’d finally seen it for herself.

She remembers, vividly, the first time she’d unleashed her bankai.

It was like opening her eyes after a long sleep, that point of bright, crystalline clarity. Now, though, not only could she see more of the glowing threads, but she could finally touch them.

It would take a long time for her to learn the real significance of what that meant.

* * *

Yhwach falls to his knees, the shattered fragments of his sword littered across the ground around him.

“This cannot be.” He wheezes, using the hilt to hold himself up.

“Your Majesty!” Haschwalth is running towards them, desperate to reach the fallen monarch, but he never reaches them. Instead, he staggers, gasping as his skin begins to peel from his flesh. As each new layer is revealed he wheezes, until the effort is too much and he falls, no longer able to support himself. He draws one more stuttering breath before going completely still, his body crumbling a second later.

_She_ stares dispassionately down at Yhwach, head tilting as he groans in pain and then snarls at _Her_ , staggering to his feet and swinging the remains of his sword at _Her_.

“This cannot be. I am A - The Almighty. I can see the future! Mine is the power to change fate! I am a God!” He shouts, attacking _Her_ with great blundering swings of the broken hilt. _She_ tilts _Her_ head.

“You called us an ‘aspect’ of fate. You were wrong. We are no aspect, we are a law of creation made flesh and given form.” _She_ says. _Her_ fingers twitch and the remnants of Yhwach’s sword disintegrates, taking most of his arm with it. The man roars, partly in pain and partly in rage, but falls to his knees once more.

“Humans, Hollows, Quincy, Shinigami, even Gods cannot escape our power. We and we alone can order and change the course of events.” _She_ continues.

Yhwach bares his teeth.

“Lies! My father made you for me! Without me you would not exist as you are!” He shouts. _She_ blinks once, long and slow, glowing lashes fanning across _Her_ cheeks.

“True. Perhaps we would not exist, but we were not made _for_ you. We were forged to be your antithesis.” Here, _She_ tilts _Her_ head, before reaching into one of _Her_ sleeves. From within it _She_ produces a small spindle which holds the same glowing strands that seem to make up _Her_ hair.

“Just as each soul has a Reiraku, a spirit ribbon, so does each soul have a thread of destiny. Ours is the power to alter these threads. For example, today countless Shinigami threads were cut short prematurely, so we have done all we can to repair the ones we could. Kurosaki Ichigo’s thread was directly tied to you, so we severed the connection and gave him a new destiny. Originally, there was no end to your thread, indicating you had no death, so we cut your thread and _gave you one_.” _She_ says.

_She_ leans over the fallen man, black eyes heavy lidded.

“Ours is not just the power to change fate, but to erase a person from existence. If we so wish it, you shall cease to _be_.”

Yhwach stares up at _Her_ , eyes wide in dawning comprehension, as _She_ extends a hand towards him.

“Here is where your thread of fate ends, Sealed King.” _She_ says.

Yhwach roars in defiance, reaching for _Her_ , but it is for naught. His skin begins to peel back, just as the Sternritter’s had, revealing red muscle and white bones underneath. Layer after layer slowly breaks off, each piece dissipating until there is nothing left of the monarch.

_She_ stands for a moment, unmoving, before turning away.

_She_ makes _Her_ way towards Kensei, Matsumoto, and Hitsugaya. Slowly, _She_ reaches out and makes an odd gesture with one hand in the empty air, like _She’s_ plucking at the strings of a harp. As one, the two captains and one lieutenant collapse, as if they were marionettes whose ties had been suddenly cut. They hit the ground with dull thuds, writhing like they’re in excruciating pain.

Eventually, though, they go still, their skin colors gradually returning to normal.

“Ow, what the fuck?” Kensei is the first to sit up, holding his head in both hands. He blinks rapidly and looks up, eyes zeroing in on the figure standing over him.

“Sakura?” He breathes, unsure because he’s never seen _Her_ like this. _She_ tilts _Her_ head before carefully bending at the waist to take his face in _Her_ hands. He doesn’t dare move, staring up into those fathomless eyes. Now that he’s this close, though, he notices that they’re not solid black, like he had first thought. Instead, they’re speckled with tiny pinpricks of light, like stars scattered across the night sky.

He blinks as _She_ releases him and takes a step back, turning slightly, before extending a hand out from _Her_ body. A ball of green fire appears in _Her_ palm, which _She_ holds for a moment before releasing.

It drops to the ground where it rapidly starts expanding. Everywhere the green fire touches the stark white buildings of the Wandenreich vanish, replaced by the familiar architecture of the Seireitei. The fire continues to spread, bypassing people as it picks up speed before disappearing into the distance.

And then, without warning, _She_ collapses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, this chapter gave me so many issues. I must have rewritten it six or seven times, but here it is. 
> 
> Sakura's abilities, as she said, are a little different from the norm. But they take a significant toll, with some pretty hefty side effects. 
> 
> And, because it's my birthday, this is going to be part one of a two chapter release for today. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!


	28. Vengeance Rising

Sakura sleeps for eight days.

In that entire time Kensei does not once budge from his place beside her infirmary bed, snarling at anyone who even dares to suggest that he get some rest himself. Shinji visits, as does Hisagi, but Kensei is left mostly to himself.

The morning of the fifth day, however, he gets a visit from the new Captain Commander.

“Kurotsuchi is having a field day trying to classify her zanpakuto, you know? I don’t think Urahara is helping any.” Kyoraku says without preamble, seating himself in the second visitor’s chair.

“Oh?” Kensei doesn’t look his way.

“Yeah.” Kyoraku chuckles. “They agree that’s it’s a kido type, but Kurotsuchi insists it should be classified under poisons while Urahara thinks it might be a fire natured sword, but he says it’s most likely unidentifiable. Is it bad that I think listening to Kurotsuchi yell is funny?”

Kensei grunts noncommittally and they fall into silence.

“I told her brother.” Kyoraku finally says. Kensei briefly glances his way, frown firmly in place.

“Why?” He asks, though he has a pretty good idea.

“You heard Urahara, didn’t you? He hypothesized that she most likely can’t die from natural causes and I don’t see it being possible to kill her, either. When her brother’s sentence is up, she’ll probably be the only one of us left.” Kyoraku says.

Kensei looks away, hands tightening in the material of his hakama.

“Does that bother you? That she’ll most likely outlive you?” Kyoraku asks. Kensei snorts.

“Nah. It’s probably for the best, actually.” He says. Kyoraku hums.

“Is that so?” He says good naturedly.

* * *

Sakura stirs, eyes fluttering open to look up at a stark white ceiling. She blinks, inhaling the scent of antiseptic and clean linens that tells her that she’s in the 4th division. She’s still tired, but she manages to turn her head, finally noticing Kensei slumped in the chair beside her bed. His huge bulk looks squished, folded nearly in half as he’d gradually slid farther down in his seat, arms crossed over his chest and his head bent at an odd angle.

Suffice it to say, he does not look comfortable.

Slowly, she sits up, flexing her hands to test her mobility. When she finds herself unimpeded, she carefully extricates herself from her bed and stands, stretching to alleviate the aches that have settled into her bones.

All of her shuffling around eventually wakes Kensei.

He blinks, yawning hugely, before he seems to register that not only is she awake, but up and about.

They stare at each other for a moment before Kensei sits up properly and opens his arms. Sakura’s smile is warm as she burrows against his chest, letting out a contented sigh as she settles in his lap. They just sit like that for a while in silence, each soaking up the presence of the other.

“How long was I out?” Sakura finally asks, voice soft so as not to break the mood. Kensei hums, nuzzling her hair.

“About eight days.” He answers.

“Huh. Well, that’s better than last time, at least.” She chuckles.

“Last time?” He asks.

“The first few times I released my bankai I slept for anywhere from twenty to thirty days afterwards.” She answers. Kensei whistles, long and low, but makes no further move. They fall into silence again, only broken when Sakura swallows thickly and lets out a shaky breath.

“You died.” Her voice cracks, causing Kensei’s heart to squeeze inside his chest.

“I know.” He says.

“Kensei, _you died_. You were gone and I…if I hadn’t…” She can’t finish, a broken sob wrenching from her throat. Kensei tightens his hold on her and she turns her face into his neck, her tears quickly soaking the collar of his uniform.

All he can do is hold her through it, each shuddering breath sending a stab of pain through his heart. Finally, she quiets, cheek resting against his chest as her breathing evens out. A few moments follow where neither of them speak, wrapped up in each other.

“What’s happened, since I was out?” She finally asks, voice thick. Kensei blinks.

“Cleanup, mostly. 4th division has been identifying bodies and preserving them until funerals can be prepared, but they’re almost at capacity. Kyoraku agrees that we should start soon, but we can’t afford to recall anyone from the field. There’s some contention about not giving them a proper sendoff.” He says.

“Do we know how many we lost?” She asks quietly. He sighs.

“Not yet. The initial estimate was in the thousands. The problem is that we have no idea how many bodies where destroyed amidst the chaos. The MIA list is kinda sickening to look at.” He continues.

“What about higher ranks? Captains and Lieutenants?” She asks. Kensei grimaces.

“Unohana Retsu of the 4th and Ukitake Jushiro of the 13th have both been confirmed dead. Komamura Sajin of the 7th has been relieved of duty. Kusajishi Yachiru of the 11th has been listed as MIA.” Here, he pauses for a moment before continuing.

“Kira Izuru’s body was recovered two days ago.” He feels Sakura shiver in his arms and gives her a gentle squeeze.

“As for ranked shinigami, a lot of divisions lost most of their top twenty seated officers, so there’s been a lot of shuffling and promotions in the last few days.” He continues.

“What about the 3rd? What am I looking at when I get back?” She asks.

“From the looks of it your 4th, 5th, and 6th seats all died with Kira. As for numbers, the only one who survived of your top fifteen was Ichimaru. He’s been running the 3rd with Kyoraku’s approval since the battle ended.” He answers. Slowly, he lowers his head, his cheek pressed to the side of her forehead as he lets out a strained breath.

“We…we got word from the living world. Hiyori reported in, said that she and the others had been attacked.” Sakura stiffens in his arms, head lifting in a surprised jerk.

“Did they…” She trails off, unable to finish as she catches the pain in Kensei’s eyes.

“They lost Rose. The rest are injured, but they’ll live.” He says, voice thick. Sakura’s mouth pinches, head lowering.

“Where are they now?” She asks.

“Here. They’re helping with cleanup for the time being. I have a feeling that Kyoraku is gonna offer them positions here. There are certainly enough spots open, now.” He says.

She heaves a heavy sigh, eyes squeezing closed.

“I’d better get going, then. I need to look at numbers and scores and who I have available and start the ball rolling. And I have something I need to speak with Gin about.” The way she says it sets off a warning bell in the back of Kensei’s head and he frowns at her.

“What about?” He asks cautiously. Her eyes flick to his, something unreadable in their depths.

“Nothing important.” She says nonchalantly.

Kensei has the sinking suspicion that it is anything but.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, she finds Gin at the 3rd, surrounded by paperwork and looking exceptionally haggard.

She watches him for a moment, taking in the deep bags under his eyes and the way his hair is sticking up in several places.

“Gin.” He looks up at the sound of his name, blinking when he sees her in the doorway.

“Sakura-taicho, what are you doing up?” He asks, standing from his seat to greet her.

Instead of answering she regards him for another long moment, silent, before entering the office fully and closing the door behind her with a resounding snap.

“Gin, what would you think if I told you there were people who knew about certain events that were going to happen, events that caused a lot of suffering for people we care about, and yet they did nothing to stop those events?” She asks. He stills, watching her thoughtfully through narrowed eyes.

“I’d be angry.” He finally answers. She nods in understanding.

“And what if I asked you to come with me?” She asks him.

“Where?” He asks. Her smile is grim.

“To avenge those who suffered unnecessarily.”

A long moment passes between them, where they just stare at each other, before Gin takes a step towards her.

“Lead the way, Captain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of my birthday update. I kept most of the canon deaths and disappearances. Kenpachi still killed Unohanna and Yachiru disappeared when Kenpachi learned the name of his zanpakuto, Komamura still tore out his own heart, but Ukitake died on the battlefield. Seeing as Yhwach and the Sternritter never made it to the Soul King's Palace, most of the fighting occurred in the Soul Society and so there's a lot of clean up to do. 
> 
> Like I said, Sakura isn't the type to make promises she doesn't intend to keep. And there will be a reckoning for what she see's as the unnecessary suffering of her loved ones. 
> 
> Aaaaaaaand this fic is actually looking at closer to 32~ish chapters and an epilogue. Sorry?


	29. Surrender the Throne

Nimaiya is waiting for her in the forge, the sounds of the waves lapping at the rocky shore amplified by the huge dome of the stone cave.

“Sakura-chan.” He greets her, eyes sad. She watches him for a long moment in silence, taking him in.

“I understand now, why Kirinji always hated me.” She says, in lieu of a greeting.

“Yeah?” Nimaiya asks.

“Yeah. I would be angry, too, if I was told I had to raise the person who would one day take my life.” She says. Nimaiya barks a short laugh, strained, but nods.

“I felt the same way, for a while.” He admits. Sakura makes a wounded noise, something sad and broken and inquisitive.

“What changed?” She asks him. His smile is crooked, but genuine.

“I met you.” He says softly. Sakura blinks and he continues.

“You were just so young, already too smart for your own good, but innocent of everything. I think it was the moment where Hyosube was holding you, for the first time, that I realized just how tiny you were. And we were supposed to forge you into a weapon of war. And I just…” He trails off, lips pressing tightly together.

“I remember thinking how wrong it was, that you were being robbed of any kind of childhood, of the love of your brother, of a choice. But orders were orders, especially when they came from the Soul King, so I decided I was going to make the most of it.” He shrugs. Sakura’s head tilts a little.

“Senjumaru said something along the same lines.” She says. Nimaiya nods.

“We knew it wasn’t your fault.” He says. Sakura’s mouth pinches and she frowns.

“But isn’t it? What if…” She trails off as Nimaiya shakes his head.

“No.” He insists, taking a step towards her, as if closing the distance that scant few feet will help make her believe him.

“What ifs will do you no good. You could ask yourself ‘what if’ for ten thousand years and still not have an answer. You were born and you fought and you survived. Everything else is outside of your control.”

Sakura laughs humorlessly.

“Sounds like a self fulfilling prophecy.” She says and his answering smile is wry.

“Yeah, something like that.” He answers.

They stare at each other, the silence stretching into long minutes.

“The others?” He finally asks.

“Gone.” She says.

“How?” He sounds curious and she shrugs.

“Hikifune first. I made it as quick as I could, I didn’t want her to suffer. I don’t think she actually saw me until it was too late. Then Kirinji and Hyosube, but…” Here, she frowns.

“I wanted to do the same for them, make it quick and painless, but suddenly…suddenly I was a child again, being derided for doing something wrong and I just…” She trails off again, eyes flicking away and back again.

“I lost my temper.” She finally admits. Nimaiya’s disbelieving snort makes her pout at him.

“Anyway, they put up a good fight, but in the end it didn’t matter.” She continues.

“Oh? I would have thought Hyosube, at least, would have given you a run for your money.” Nimaiya says. Sakura shrugs.

“They couldn’t work together for shit, so there’s that.” She says. Nimaiya nods.

“True.”

Here, Sakura falters, throat working as she swallows.

“Senjumaru was…harder, somehow, even though she put up less of a fight. I think she felt obligated, like she had to, and I…” She heaves a deep breath and Nimaiya can almost _see_ the grief she’s pushing aside, just waiting to be unpacked at a later time.

“It hurts.” He supplies and she nods.

Slowly, carefully, he approaches, until he can reach out and wrap his arms around her shoulders, tucking her head under his chin.

“You’re still so tiny.” He laughs, the sound hollow in the small space between them. Her arms come up around his middle and her fingers twist into the material of his vest, clinging.

“I don’t think I can do this.” She says, voice small, like she’s a child again. He rubs soothing circles on her back.

“You’ll be okay.” He assures her. “You’ll pull through because you’re strong, and you have people behind you who will support you and love you. It’s not the end of the world.”

Here, she pulls away a little so she can look up at him.

“It feels a little like it, though.” She admits. He smiles, thumbs pressing into the apples of her cheeks for the briefest moment as he cups her face and presses a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“I know, but I believe in you, baby girl. I’m proud of you.” He says.

It happens almost too quickly. Nimaiya steps back, out of the circle of her arms, and the flash of silver is the only warning she has before he’s plunged his own sword through his stomach, bright red against stark black.

There’s a fraction of a second that passes in silence, where she doesn’t quite comprehend what’s happened, and then it clicks and she’s stumbling forward with a cry to catch him as his legs give out, his weight dragging them both to the ground.

“Why?” She gasps, tears gathering in her eyes as she cradles him in her arms.

“Why would you…why?”

He coughs wetly, smile easy and genuine.

“It’s easier this way…for everyone.” He says. She shakes her head, tears carving glistening tracks down her face as she presses her hand over the wound, ignoring the way her skin comes away dripping.

“Could you…just one more time, Sakura, please?” He asks, voice fading as the red slowly seeps wider.

“I don’t want to say goodbye.” She says thickly through her tears. He nods.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He admits sadly. She takes a deep, shuddering breath and sniffs.

“Goodbye, To-chan.” She says, the barest tremor in her voice. Nimaiya sighs happily.

“Goodbye, Sakura-chan.”

* * *

Her grief is nearly visible, he can feel it so clearly. It’s there in the way she holds her shoulders, the blue-tinted glasses tucked discreetly away in her sleeve.

Her eyes are red, but dry as she meets him at the doors of the Hooden.

They don’t speak as she leads him into the Soul King’s inner sanctum, the only sound their footfalls against the stone floor.

As they approach the huge double doors, however, a thought occurs and he draws up short.

“You haven’t needed my help up until this point. Why ask me along?”

She pauses as well, turning to look at him over her shoulder.

“If I had been allowed to visit my brother instead of being kept away from him like I was, then he never would have set out to find a way to enter the Soul King’s palace. He never would have developed the Hogyoku and Matsumoto would never have been caught in the crossfire.” She explains. He nods along.

“I get that bit, that you asked me along because I was directly affected, but you haven’t needed my skills at all until this point. Why bring me this far?”

Her smile this time is wry as she turns fully to face him.

“Two reasons. Firstly, the Soul King has no thread.” She says. He blinks.

“No thread?” He asks. She nods.

“No thread of fate, no destiny, no death. He is literally a being without an end, and I am currently incapable of giving him one.” She says. He frowns at her.

“What do you mean? Isn’t that the whole point of your bankai?” He asks.

She leans a little closer, smile turning conspiratorial.

“I’ll let you in on a secret, Gin. I probably won’t be able to enter my bankai state again for about a year or so.” She admits. He stares at her, shocked.

“What?” He croaks.

“Well, I could force it, but there’s such a huge amount of force exerted during the change that I would cause irreversible damage to my body, which would make it impossible to enter my bankai in the future. So I have to wait, which means I have no way of giving the Soul King a thread.” Here, she tilts her head a little.

“Which brings me to the second reason I asked you along.” She says, before nodding down to the sword attached to his hip.

“Kamishini no Yari, the God Killing Spear.” She says and something clicks for Gin.

“You needed that?” He asks and she nods.

“Just as I was made to kill Yhwach and destined to kill the Royal Guard, you were fated to be the one to end the Soul King.” She explains. He stares at her, his chin dropping a little, frowning. She blinks at him, her face smoothing over into a gentle smile.

“I will give you the choice of it, though. We can turn back now and return to the Soul Society and in a year I’ll come back and finish this.” She says. He snorts.

“You’re always trying to give people the choice of it, aren’t you?” He asks. She shrugs one shoulder.

“It’s what happens when you grow up not getting much of one.” She explains. He continues to watch her for another long moment before his hand falls to the hilt of his sword, back straightening as he comes to a decision.

“Lead the way, Captain.” He says.

Her answering smile is sharp enough to cut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of Aizen Sosuke's birthday, here's an update for this fic. 
> 
> We're getting near the end. Maybe. Hopefully only one or two more chapters before the epilogue. Fingers crossed.


	30. Out of Ashes

Let beauty come out of ashes

\- Ashes, Celine Dion

* * *

“Mah, Urahara-san, why didn’t we calculate for this?” Kyoraku asks, downing the contents of his sake cup in one go. Urahara frowns, lips pressed tightly together.

“Because we never thought that she’d actually go through with it.” He admits. Kyoraku scoffs, pouring himself another drink.

“What a mess.” He says. The other man nods.

“Hyosube Ichibe, the Monk Who Calls the Real Name. Kirinji Tenjiro, the Hot Spring Demon and the Divine General of the East. Hikifune Kirio, the Ruler of Grain. Shutara Senjumaru, the Great Weave Guard. And Nimaiya Oetsu, the God of the Sword. All dead within a day, all felled by a single person.” Urahara recites, staring down at his hands.

“Not to mention the Soul King, though I suspect she asked Ichimaru to do the honors there.” Kyoraku says and Urahara nods.

“I think the most annoying aspect is that she knows we can’t _do_ anything.” Kyoraku continues, frowning into space.

“We can’t afford any kind of dissent among the ranks and she has too many people who would back her if we made any kind of move. We’re talking the loss of another two Captains and at least three Lieutenants.”

“Four Captains, now that Yadomaru Lisa is Captain of the 8th and Aikawa Love is Captain of the 7th.” Urahara says. Kyoraku blinks.

“Are we sure they’d back her?” He asks curiously. Urahara levels him with a hard look from under the brim of his hat.

“Are you willing to risk it?” He shoots back. Kyoraku sighs.

“Right, right. Anyway, even if we could remove her, that leaves Ichimaru Gin as the next in line for the 3rd’s Captaincy, seeing as none of the higher seated officers survived.” He says and Urahara nods along.

“Besides all that, Kensei will fight for Sakura-chan, and vise versa.” He says. Kyoraku’s expression turns pensive.

“Muguruma is untouchable, too, when you think about it. He has the same close knit group that she does, so using him to control her wouldn’t work.” He says offhandedly. Urahara pauses, eyes widening.

“Oh.” He breathes and Kyoraku blinks at him.

“What is it?” He asks. Urahara shakes his head.

“Nothing, just…I didn’t understand what Sakura-chan meant when she told you she’d be watching who you moved against. Now, I do.” He says. Kyoraku shrugs.

“I’m pragmatic.” He defends himself. Urahara’s mouth pinches.

“You’d have a hard time convincing _anyone_ that moving against Kensei was a good idea, especially as we’re no longer under wartime protocols.” He says tersely. Kyoraku holds up his hands.

“Calm down. I’ve already decided that I won’t move against either of them, so there’s no need to get so worked up.” He says.

“But you considered it.” Urahara snaps.

They lapse into silence for a few moments, before Kyoraku sighs.

“Anyway, even if we do remove her as Captain of the 3rd and arrest her for the deaths of the Royal Guard, she’d most likely just break herself out.” He says.

“Along with her brother, probably.” Urahara agrees. Kyoraku makes a noise of agreement.

“What a mess.” He mutters again.

Another few minutes pass in silence, where Urahara looks down into the contents of his own cup, watching his reflection distort and reform over and over again.

“I think you’re wrong.” He finally says.

“About what?” Kyoraku asks.

“About the most annoying aspect of all this. It’s not that we can’t do anything. It’s that I understand _why_ she did it.” Urahara says.

“Before she was even born her entire life had been written out for her. I think she saw it as a betrayal, that instead of trying to change the future that she’d been born to fix, they let it happen anyway. So many people were hurt and died because of it. Just letting her see her brother would have changed so much.” Here he heaves a heavy breath and runs a hand down his face.

“What she said at the gates: ‘the Soul Society no longer holds sway over death,' I think it’s for the best.” He admits quietly. Kyoraku blinks, before letting out his own sigh and nodding.

“Yeah, me too. We can’t control it, just guide it along. Guardians of the dead.” He says, raising his cup for a toast.

“Maybe that was our destiny from the start.” Urahara agrees.

* * *

“You’re just like your brother.”

Sakura pauses, drawn up short by the familiar voice, and glances over her shoulder to see Ichigo standing a dozen paces away, glaring at her.

“Am I?” She asks casually. His lip lifts in a snarl as he approaches, anger radiating from him.

“You’re both exactly alike, heartless and conniving.” He snaps. A muscle in her jaw ticks but he ignores it and plows on.

“You don’t think about the people you hurt, do you? About who you kill? So long as your objective is achieved, you’ll trample over anyone who get’s in your way. You just don’t _care_.”

“Be silent, brat.” She hisses, whirling on him with bared teeth and flashing eyes. Ichigo instinctively draws back, jaw snapping shut in surprise.

“Do you think I took their lives thoughtlessly? _Everyone_ lost here, Kurosaki.” She spits. He remains frozen in place, but frowns at her wording. Her eyes narrow and she sneers at him.

“Do you think I don’t suffer for this? I killed the man who read me bedtime stories as a child. I killed the woman who treated me like a daughter. I killed the man who stole me away and started this whole mess, the same one who taught me what it meant to be strong. I killed a woman I barely knew, but who meant the world to someone I care for, someone who will never forgive me for what I’ve done.” Here, she takes a shaky breath, but her eyes remain hard as she stares him down.

“I killed the man I thought of as my father, who raised me and loved me despite being told I would one day end his life. So don’t you dare speak of things you do not understand.” She says harshly, and there is such heartbreak and anger in her eyes that Ichigo lowers his gaze.

“Then…why?” He finally asks. A long pause passes between them before she speaks again.

“What’s to stop them from doing it again?” At her question he lifts his head.

“What?”

“You heard me. What’s to stop history from repeating itself? The next time they ‘let destiny take its course’ even more people could die. I wasn’t about to take that risk.” She says.

“But…now there’s no way to know. No warning system.” Ichigo says, confused.

“Exactly. No one knows, therefore no one can interfere one way or the other.” She points out. Ichigo blinks.

“You can.” He argues. Sakura’s answering smile is wry.

“I’m not omniscient, Kurosaki. I can’t see the future, all I can do is react as things unfold.” She turns and starts to walk away, but not before turning back to him at the corner.

“Just like everybody else.”

* * *

Kensei finds her on the porch at the back of their quarters, staring up into the early evening sky.

He just stands there for a long minute, watching the way the setting sun dyes her hair and eyes red, before slowly approaching. She doesn’t turn to look at him, even when he lowers himself to the wood floor right beside her.

He immediately notices the blue tinted sunglasses laying in her lap, but doesn’t comment on them.

They sit in silence, her watching the sunset and him watching her.

Finally, as the sun dips below the horizon and the shadows start to seriously lengthen, she turns to face him.

“I keep reminding myself that it gets better.” She says quietly. Silently, he reaches for her hand and laces their fingers together, squeezing gently.

“I’m here for you.” He tells her. She smiles, the grief in her eyes lessening just a little.

“Yeah, I know.”

Kensei lets go of her hand to wrap his arm around her waist and tug her against his side. She sighs, letting her head fall against his shoulder as he drops his cheek to her hair. They lapse into comfortable silence once more, the lights in the surrounding barracks coming on as night falls, but their tiny yard remains shrouded in darkness.

“They’re reconfiguring the residential district.” He finally says. She hums to let him know she’s listening.

“I’ve put in a request for one of the plots and a work order. It won’t be anything like the noble complexes, but we’ll have a real house, with a garden and everything.” Here he pulls away just a little to look down at her, something like nervousness etched onto his face.

“That is, if you want to?” He asks softly. She’s quiet for a moment.

“No offices.” She says. He blinks down at her, confused.

“What?”

“I don’t want an office in our house. Work stays at the barracks, okay?” She explains. That startles a laugh out of him.

“You seem surprisingly calm about all this.” He says. She shrugs.

“Kensei, everyone knows my rooms at the 3rd are just for show. We already live together.” She points out.

“Yeah, I guess so. Guess I worried for nothing.” He grins. She laughs lightly, letting her head fall back against his shoulder with a smile.

“So, no office. We’ll need a kitchen, at least.” He muses.

“A big one.” She agrees.

“And at least two bedrooms.”

“Better make it three or four. Actually, five would probably be best.”

“Why so many?”

“We’ll be the only ones with a _house_ , Kensei. The other are going to want to come over all the time.”

“Ugh, you’re right.”

Sakura pauses, tilting her head back so she can see Kensei’s face properly.

“All joking aside though, I’d be very happy to have a house with you, Kensei.” She says softly. His smile turns wide and bright.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

In one swift motion he’s scooped her up against his chest and settled her in his lap, his arms going around her in a tight hug. He drops his head so he can nuzzle against her shoulder, trying to hide his dopey grin. She must feel it anyway as she reaches back to pat his cheek, her thumb brushing against his jaw, but he can’t bring himself to care.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me.” He says.

“I’ve got something of an idea.” She quips playfully.

“This is kinda big, getting a house. Should we celebrate?” He asks, lifting his head. She shrugs, snuggling more comfortably against his chest.

“There’ll be time for all of that later, right? I mean, it’s not like either of us is going anywhere.” She points out.

“You’re right.” He agrees.

“Naturally.” She says smugly.

“Oi.” His retort has no bite to it, tone undermined with amusement.

She laughs outright, tilting her head back so she can see the stars twinkling overhead through Kensei’s silver fringe.

“It’ll get better.” She says quietly.

“Yeah.” He says just as softly.

“We’ll rebuild.”

“Yeah.”

“Out of the ashes, right?” She asks playfully. He smiles, dropping a kiss to her cheek.

“Something like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada!
> 
> Ugh, this was supposed to be up in time for Sakura's birthday on the 31st but I wasn't happy with it and I had work so I took the extra time to do some serious editing. I like it much better, even if I did miss my self-imposed deadline. 
> 
> Anyway, next chapter is the Epilogue, then this fic will be done. 
> 
> PS. Unless it wasn't super obvious from this chapters song choice, I went to see Deadpool 2 and if you haven't seen the music video for 'Ashes' then you need to get on youtube because I laughed way harder than I should have for that kind of song.
> 
> A/N (8/7/18): I decided that, for now, there won't be an Epilogue. Eventually, maybe there will be, but for now this fic is done. I hope you enjoyed it just as much as I enjoyed writing it.  
> \- Penguin


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